“It’s okay. I’d love to stay. I don’t mind having you as company. You’re very non-intrusive and I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you that all morning. But I couldn’t find the words.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Confession time, I guess. But I’ve really enjoyed us being roommates. I was going to miss you a lot.”
“Okay, then. I guess we should be more honest with each other.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Does that mean you want me to stay?”
Aspen nodded. “I do. But now I have my own confession to make.”
I stared at him over my mug. What he told me next, I had not expected at all.
11
Aspen
“But now I have my own confession to make,” I said, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. “I’m not sure you’ll like it.”
“About the snowbank?” Dale asked.
“No.”
“Okay. What? No judging here. I promise.”
He sipped his coffee, his dark eyes holding nothing but kindness.
I cleared my throat. “Um, this is hard, so be patient.”
“Take your time.”
“One of the main reasons I came to Winter Wonderland to vacation and have alone time is, well, because I’m, um, expecting my heat at any time.”
Dale sat up straighter. “Well, then, I’m more of an intruder than I thought.”
“No. That’s just it. You’re not.” He was not an intruder, he was perfect. “And when it does come, I’ll be intruding on your peace.”
“I’m sorry things got so messed up here,” Dale said. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t know.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I kept that part secret from you.”
“Aspen.” Dale stretched out a hand, then let it fall in his lap. “I won’t interfere. I promise. Let me know when it comes and I’ll just leave.”
“No. I’ll leave. That’s my plan.”
“You won’t be in any state to drive.”
He was right about that. I glanced down.
“Aspen. It’s okay. I’ll go. You just tell me when. Agreed?”
Dale’s tone quickened my insides. Calm. Caring. And more?
Plus, he would know before I ever said a word. He very well knew I would emit pheromones like crazy, and they would probably be sweet to him—if they didn’t turn him off completely. But I doubted that. We were compatible. It had been obvious for three and a half days.
“I don’t think that’s fair to you,” I said softly.
“It’s called life. It’s not spelled f.a.i.r.,” he said.
