Page 49 of All We Need

The view outside doesn’t help my mood.

The storm has worsened.Thetree line has been swallowed up by the thick wall of snow falling rapidly from the sky.It’sso heavy, it creeps up the window, growing before my eyes.

We’re not going anywhere today.

I sense him behind me. “Doyou need to call anyone?”

“I spoke to my family yesterday.Ishould check in with them, though.”

“Use my phone.Theservice is crap around here, butIget a couple of bars by the front door.”

Thankfully, he’s put on a sweatshirt.

“I won’t be long.”Iforce a smile when he hands me his phone. “Thankyou.”

BeforeIwalk away, he says, “I’llmake breakfast.Anythingyou don’t like or allergies?”

“I’m not picky, butIcan cook for my?—”

“Aly,I’mcooking for you.Callyour parents.”Heleaves me and starts throwing fresh logs into the wood-burning stove.

After speaking to my father and begging him to reassure my momI’msafe, we say goodbye.I’msad to not be with them, especially asIhaven’t seen my brothers in a couple of months, but we make plans to see each other soon.Christmasis always a mish-mash ofAmericanandGreektraditions.Insteadof ham or turkey, we havemoschari lemonato—a roast beef dish with lemon gravy.Outof everything,I’llmiss my mom’smelomakaronacookies the most.

Booth makes us the fluffiest scrambled eggs, whichIdevour.Hedoesn’t stop me whenIdo the washing up and busies himself by stoking the fire.

We’re quiet.Polite.Civil.

It’s awkward.

I’m sifting through my bag, searching for a change of clothes while he lounges on the sofa, now in a pair of gray sweats.Everytime his eyes drift toward me from the other side of the room, my body heats.I’mconcentrating so hard to not think about himIdon’t see his duffel bag at the foot of the bed.Flailing,Ireach for the closest thing to right myself, which is my suitcase, scattering the contents everywhere.

IfIthought waking up curled intoBoothwas humiliating, my vibrator flying through the air and landing on the pillow with aplopis the pinnacle.

My head turns slowly, hoping to find an obliviousBooth.

He’s staring right at the black silicone object with an impressed expression.

I prepare for his immature quip, suiting up in my armor, ready to call him out.

“Get it over with,”Isnap, hating my defensive tone.

He looks shocked at my outburst. “Isthis another trap?”

“You’re dying to make a joke.”Igesture toward the vibrator. “Getit out of your system.”

I fold my arms, hip jutting to the side asIwait.Daringhim to say something with my eyes.

“I’m not one to miss the opportunity to make people laugh, butIdon’t find women’s pleasure funny.Farfrom it.”Hedoesn’t budge.Hisposture is confident, legs spread wide, spine flush against the sofa as he observes me. “Itake itveryseriously.”

He needs to stop talking.

“I don’t think you’re capable of being serious.”

His head tilts. “Whenit counts,Ican be.”

My spine tingles with awareness; the hidden meaning clear.

Tempting him would be careless.Thething withBooth, though, isIcan’t seem to help myself.

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