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A moment later, she crosses her legs and hazards a quick glance at me. “What are you doing?” she whispers, but at least she doesn’t pull away.
“I’m cold,” I whisper back. The air is clean, and Tess smells like cantaloupe and peppermint. All the things I never knew I loved.
“Mrs. Lockhart is right there,” she says. Her voice is barely audible. Instead of answering, I tilt my head. It’s my best effort at a silentwho cares?
“We can’t,” she whispers, and my pulse picks up with the possibilities.
“Can’t what?”
She faces forward. “Just watch the movie, coworker.” She says this out of the corner of her mouth.Coworkers.Right. But her arm is still all the way fully leaning against mine. And I know that’s nothing. Laughable, really. But for me? Not so funny.
I watch her throat, trace the slow swallow. Is that a slight clenching of her jaw? My heart bangs against my ribs with the hint that maybe she’s feeling something too. Still, I’ve been wrong so many times. I’m probably a fool to wish for more.
I turn away from her and stare at the movie.
Numb. Thrilled.
Who wants to build a snowman?
And just how thoroughly can ice burn?
