Page 11 of Cruel Winter with You

I rolled my eyes. “Idothink you should massage the plan a bit. You should take a leave of absence and not drop out. Maybe give yourself a deadline—if you can’t bring the tech to market by a reasonable date, you go back to school. But ... you shouldn’t give up. It sounds like a great idea, a great product. And it’syourtech. You shouldn’t have to sell it if you don’t want to.”

That toothpaste-commercial grin of his again—perfect and happy and hopeful. Boyish. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Actually, I have some money put away. Mostly what my grandma left me. And it’s just there, collecting dust and being gnawed at by inflation, so—”

“Jamie. No.”

“Yes.”

“I have financial backers. I don’t need—”

“I know you don’t. I’m asking you for the opportunity to invest in equity capital. I’d rather do it to support someone I believe in, someone I know and care about, than—”

“We’ve barely seen each other in the last few years—”

“True, but Iknowyou. I always have. You get it, right?”

He did. I was sure of it. I could practically taste it in the way his body suddenly tensed. “Keep your money,” he said after a long silence, voice pitched low. His hand found my knee under the blanket. Closed around it. Sent hot shivers up my thigh and into my belly. “And let me take you out on a date.”

Without any forethought, my entire body screamed:Yes.I closed my eyes, swallowed the syllable, and forced myself to sound amused. “What’s this? Community service at the senior center?”

“You are two years older than me, Jamie.”

“Twenty-one and nineteen is a big difference.”

“Yeah, of course. You could be my mother. Let me take you out anyway.”

“Marc. You live in Boston,” I said instead ofNo.

“Not for long. And you’re going to med school at Berkeley—”

“I haven’t been accepted yet.”

“Come on, Jamie. I know you as much as you know me. You’re going to med school at Berkeley, and if I take a leave of absence, I’ll likely move to the West Coast. Bay Area. That’s where everything happens. And that’s whereyouare.”

He was still so stubborn. Determined. Pure single-mindedness.

It made me want to lean in to him. Ask for a kiss. Kiss him myself. But ... “I actually have a boyfriend.”

“Nice. He can fuck off.”

“Marc.”

“No, I’m serious. What’s his name?”

“Shane.”

“Shane can fuck right off.”

I couldn’t help laughing. Hated myself quite a bit for it.

“Listen, Jamie, date us both. I can deal with that. And then choose the better guy.”

I huffed. “You seem awfully certain that I’d choose you.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I really am.” He leaned closer and my heart threatened to detonate. I could feel his breath against my cheek. His palm, wide open, climbing up my inner thigh. Heat licking through my spine. “I’d make sure of it.”

“I ... I can’t, Marc.” I had to physically wrench myself away from him. I scooted to the end of the swing because maybe Icouldn’t, but I really,reallywanted to.

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