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I nodded. “Am I your type?”
He smiled. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I put my hands on his chest. “I don’t know how to be casual. If we’re going to do this, I want to be exclusive. I know you don’t do relationships but…”
“We already are, Bee.”
He didn’t say boyfriend and girlfriend, but he had agreed. I was his and he was mine. I wasn’t sure if anything had ever felt so right before.
He dusted snow off the back of my jacket. “We better get home before we’re buried alive.”
I laughed and climbed off of him. As soon as he got up, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Mason
“It’s so beautiful,” Bee said as she looked out the window.
I plopped down on the couch beside her and pulled her feet onto my lap. “It’s only pretty because we’re not out there.”
“No, it’s still pretty.”
We had both skipped work today and had pretended to be snowed in. It was perfect. She was perfect. I turned my attention away from her and toward the window. “The trash trucks can’t get through the streets. There’s trash all over the sidewalks. It’s gross.”
Bee laughed. “That’s a pessimistic view. It’s like a winter wonderland.”
I ran my thumb along the inside of her ankle, clearly sending shivers through her whole body. I loved having that effect on her. She was looking at me in that way that made my chest feel tight. But I was getting used to the feeling. I was 80 percent sure it didn’t mean I was having a heart attack.
“I can’t even remember the last time I had a snow day,” she said.
I smiled. “Building a snowman with your parents and neighborhood snowball fights? That’s what the suburbs are all about, right?”
She pressed her lips together and looked back out the window. “No, not really. I mean, maybe.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t know.”
I had hit some kind of nerve. Normally I’d change the subject if a conversation went south. But it wasn’t like that with Bee. I wanted to know these things about her. Hell, I wanted to know everything about her. “So what was it like for you, then?” I continued to rub my thumb along the inside of her ankle.
She smiled and turned back to me, but her smile looked forced. “I mean, it was pretty much like that.” She shrugged. “What about you? I assume you were still talking to your parents back then? Plus you have a brother. I’m guessing all sorts of shenanigans?”
I lowered my eyebrows slightly. What was it that she didn’t want me to know? “Well, Matt and I had a nanny that we used to love to torture. We had plenty of snowball fights with her. And hot chocolate. She made the best hot chocolate. And what about you, Bee?”
“Actually, I could go for some hot chocolate right now.” She tried to move her foot off my lap but I grabbed her ankle.
Her brown eyes got wide. For a second it looked like she was going to cry. It made my chest feel even tighter. “I’d like to know whatever it is you don’t want to tell me about your childhood. That is, if you’d like me to know. If not, I’ll let you fix me some hot chocolate.” I gave her a small smile.
She sighed and leaned back against the pillows. “It’s not like it’s anything interesting. My parents got divorced when I was really young. My dad basically disappeared overnight. And I didn’t hear from him very much. My mom had to work two jobs to pay the bills, so she couldn’t be around that much either. Not that she had a choice. And I was shy and nerdy. I didn’t have that many friends. I think part of it was that I didn’t want to get close to anyone, you know? I was afraid that they’d leave too. It was stupid.” Bee laughed and looked down at her lap.
“It’s not stupid.”
She looked back up at me. Her cheeks were slightly rosy, like she was embarrassed that she had told me about her lame excuse of a dad. I felt protective of her. She might not admit it, but I could see that it still hurt her. If I ever met him, I’d have to remember to beat the shit out of him.
“I always loved the snow, though,” she said. “Whenever my mom was home during a snowstorm we’d have a contest to see who could catch the most snowflakes on our tongues. She’d always make me say my number first and then claim that she had caught a few less than me.”
“Hmmm.” I ran my hand along the inside of her calf, massaging it gently. “Are you two still close?”
“You mean, does she call me all the time wondering if I’ve been mugged at gunpoint on the dangerous streets of New York City? And worry about me going on blind dates with serial killers?” She raised her eyebrow at me.
It was probably meant to look stern, but she looked adorable. I grabbed her hand and pulled her onto my lap.
