Page 8 of Beautifully Complicated

“So, if you aren’t from Ireland—” Aiden gives me a coy smile “—where are you from?”

“Ohio.”

“Oh.” His brow furrows in a way that I justknowmeans he’s trying to think of a follow-up and coming up blank.

“It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it?” I bite back a laugh. “You want to ask about that and have no idea where to start.”

“I really don’t.” He laughs right along with me. “What’s life like in Ohio?”

“Basic.” There I go again, talking like I’m his age, but since it makes him smile, I figure what the hell. “Cold in the winter, humid in the summer. Fall is incredible though.”

“Football?” Aiden assumes.

“That too, but I was thinking about the leaves. Then winter comes and you watch a lot of movies.”

“I can relate. Cold weather and I aren’t the best of friends. Outside the ski slopes anyway.”

“How does that work? You don’t like the cold but you’re a skier?” This man is full of contradictions.

“Snowboarder. And while you’re snowboarding you don’t notice the cold. Sitting on the chairlift is miserable, of course, and every time I get on it, I ask myself why I willingly put my body through the torture it takes to get to the top. But as soon as you start gliding down the hill you forget all about the misery you just endured because it’s so freeing.”

“You paint a very different picture than what I imagined.”

“What did you imagine?”

“A tangle of arms and legs going in a million different directions.”

Aiden tosses his head back with a deep, full laugh. “That does happen in the beginning. But once you get the hang of it it’s unbelievably fun. Sort of like floating on land.”

“You almost make it sound pleasant enough to try.”

“What would convince you it’s worth it? Other than the joy of floating?”

“Assurances that I wouldn’t freeze, for one,” I mutter as I sip my beer.

“That’s the one thing I can’t give you, although Icanpromise you’ll warm up once you’re off the chair lift. And if you’re really worried about it, they make all sorts of gadgets to ease the cold like hand and foot warmers, electric jackets—”

“There’s such a thing as electric jackets?” I gape at him, wondering why this is the first I’m hearing of it.

“Well, they’re actually battery-powered, but they do have heating elements in them.”

“Huh. Maybe I’ll have to put it on the list of things to try.”

“Is that a long list?” His long black lashes seem to brush the very tops of his cheeks as he blinks.

“Sadly, no. I’m not what you’d consider an adventurous person.”

“Depends on your definition of adventurous.” His eyes stay locked on mine as he sips his drink, and I nearly forget to respond since I’m so busy cataloging how they shine even in the dim light of the room.

“Active. Athletic. That sort of thing,” I say when I recover.

“Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t look like you aren’t athletic.”

Glancing down my own slim frame, it’s my turn to go a little red. “I’m not sure running counts as adventurous.”

“Again, depends on your definition.”

“What’s yours?” I fling my gaze to my drink when he starts chewing on his lip.

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