Having to think about the long-term effect of things seemed to be the story of my life now.
“I don’t have a waterproof jacket or boots,” I told him. I’d already been trying to figure out how to make it work since I’d been standing there. I’d tossed my old pair of shoes when they’d fallen apart after I had washed them, and I wasn’t going to go out there with the nice heels he’d gotten me.
Alex huffed, and I glanced over my shoulder to find him leaving the kitchen, sleep pants low on his hips…
The son of a bitch didn’t have a shirt on.
His waist was trim, shoulders broad. His rib cage tapered perfectly as a segue from one part of his body to another. His skin looked deceptively soft.
I needed to calm down and quit checking him out before he noticed and got suspicious. We both knew I found him attractive—who the hell didn’t? It wasn’t some shameful secret. That didn’t mean I had to be so obvious about it.
Subtle could be my middle name. I had this.
I was in the middle of washing my bowl when he came back into the kitchen, a T-shirt straining across his shoulders and chest, holding…
“The boots are too big, but I brought you three pairs of thick socks; if you tie them tight enough, you’ll manage. This jacket is more waterproof than the one you’ve been using; zip it up and you’ll be fine,” he said as he lowered a pair of brown leather boots with fleece lining on the floor beside one of the chairs of the breakfast table. Then he draped a big jacket over the back of the same chair before lifting his face and giving me a wary expression. “What?”
“Nothing,” I told him defensively, trying to hide the way my little heart swelled at his kind gesture. “Thanks, Alex.” I was pretty sure my voice came out normal.
Maybe not.
He frowned. “You need some boots your own size.”
“I know, getting my credit card sent was a pain in the ass, but it’s on its way,” I confirmed. It had taken a while, but getting my banking sorted was a huge weight off my back. I’d run out of groceries already, but one morning, I’d found the refrigerator and pantry restocked. The cereal I usually ate sitting there, looking at me. I’d tried to ask him how much I owed him, but he’d changed the subject by asking me if I’d heard from the legal department yet.
I hadn’t.
“I’ll survive until then as long as you keep letting me borrow your things,” I told him.
Alex grunted, and I finally noticed just how tired he seemed. There weren’t dark circles or bags under his eyes, but it was something about his energy that was just off.
“Are you good?” I asked. “You look a little ragged. Did you wake up at the crack of dawn?”
That funny expression came over his face again. “I woke up in the middle of the night. I had someone I needed to talk to,” he said, voice tight.
In the middle of the night? I didn’t ask, but I nodded. “Well, thanks for letting me borrow everything. I’m gonna go out there for a little while. Maybe make some snow angels,” I told him, watching his face closely.
Did he have to be so damn handsome all the damn time?
I need to stop. I was pretty sure we were friends at this point, but that was all there was between us. A give and take. Two people bound together by obligation and…
Maybe other things I didn’t want to poke at too closely.
He was a good best friend number 15 or wherever we were at. Whatever he wanted us to be. I’d take anything.
That realization had me thinking about his grandmother’s vision again.
Fuckkkk.
“I promise I’ll start trying to figure out a way to be able to move on soon.” I still hadn’t come up with anything, and that day in Legal hadn’t done much to give me any ideas better than what I’d already come up with. They were setting up another identity—whether it was legal or not, I had no idea, and I was in no position to be picky—but they’d warned me it would take some time. Then we’d gotten caught up with his mom’s birthday, and I’d almost forgotten about it since I had other things to focus on.
Alex nodded at my plan, still seeming just… off.
Maybe I could make him some cookies and cheer him up later.
Shoving the pairs of socks he was letting me use into the boots, then picking them up along with the jacket, I made my way toward the front door and started layering up. First the three pairs of socks went on. Then I crammed my feet into boots that were still too big, so I tightened the hell out of the laces until I was sure they wouldn’t come loose after the first step out there. The jacket was heavy and hit my knees, but it was warm, and there were a big pair of black gloves in the pockets that I put on too. Then I was out of there, closing one of the two doors behind me and carefully making my way down the steps until I stood at the bottom. My pants were going to be soaked.
I tipped my head back, closed my eyes so a flurry wouldn’t blind me, and stuck out my tongue. It took a minute but eventually a couple flakes landed in my mouth. I smiled. It didn’t taste like anything.
A few more flakes hit my cheeks and landed on my eyelashes, and I smiled even wider. I took a deep, deep breath full of cold, clean air and held it in my lungs, relieved I was finally feeling so much better. Then I did it again a few more times. I scooped some into my hand and pressed it to my cheek.
And just like I’d imagined myself doing my entire childhood, I waddled a little farther away from the door, and I started making snowballs.
Well, tried to. There really wasn’t more than a few inches, and the snow was too fluffy, and I hadn’t realized there was a right and wrong kind of snow, but I tried my best, making a few tiny ones that fell apart, and then figuring out how to make them slightly better. I managed to make two bigger balls and stacked them on top of each other, cackling to myself over how small and cute they were.
I was in the middle of attempting to make another tiny snowman when one of the front doors opened and Alex stepped out, wearing a brown jacket that didn’t look thick enough, a light pair of jeans, and dark winter boots.
“What are you doing?” he called out, closing the door behind him.
“Fulfilling my childhood dreams of making a snowman.”
His gaze swept toward my two figures. “You call that a snowman?”
“They’re mini on purpose, okay,” I muttered. “And I’d like to see you try to do better.”
Was that a kind-of grin? “I can’t. It’s something with my skin. They melt almost instantly.”
I blinked. “No shit.”
He nodded.
An evil little thought climbed into my head. Another thing on my list of things I’d always wanted to do. But he was literally one of the last people in the world I could do it with.
“I don’t like that look on your face,” he said warily, stopping just to the side.
I shrugged. “I had an idea, but it’s a stupid one.”
He tipped his head to the side, interested.
I went back to trying to form another small snowball. “It’s pointless.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Well, I thought about throwing a few snowballs at you, but I forgot that you’re super fast so none of them would actually land,” I explained. “See? Dumb? And you’d probably fracture my skull if you threw one back at me.”