“Sarah snooped around your room. Caleb and I followed. I tried to get them out, but they were like kids in a toy store. I’m sorry.”
“I left my door open on purpose, Win. I knew you’d probably go in there. I hid all the shit I didn’t want you to see.”
“Such as?” I ask, my nosiness beating out any shred of politeness for time.
“Okay, fine, I only hidonething.”
“Curious…”
“I’m allowedonesecret,” he says, smiling into his mug.
Interesting. Whatever it is, it must be juicier than the rope, since he didn’t bother to hide that.Don’t say anything about rope, Win. Change the subject before you do.“You know, at first, I was surprised about your nerdom, but then once I started putting the pieces together? It all sort of made sense,” I say, crossing my legs under me, leaning against the back of the couch.
“I have to know whatthatmeans.”
“Well, you love math. You’re far too pretty to be as humble as you are, which means you were either not as hot as a teenager,oryou just weren’t in with the cool crowd. I’m guessing you were like Caleb—a late bloomer with a bunch of geeky interests that kept the ladies from knocking down your door.”
“Well, it worked for him,” Bo says, one eyebrow raised as he takes a long, thoughtful sip. “Sarah’s great.”
“Well, am I right?”
“Annoyingly, yes. I was a band geekanda nerd in high school. A winning combination.” He shakes his head, smiling at his lap. “I have to admit, I thought it’d be abitlonger before you read me like a book. I believed I had an air of mystery about me.”
“You did. Until I saw the dork cave.”
“Dork cave… okay…” He chews his cheek, mischievousness in his eyes. “So you’re saying that if, on Halloween, we had come back here instead of Sarah’s guest room, and you’d seen thevery fewcollectibles I own, things may have ended differently?”
“I didn’t say that.” I lean back, confidently crossing my arms.
“So what does that make you? A nerd-chaser?”
“Just horny, I guess.”
He laughs, his throat bobbing. “Well, I’m glad our plan of getting to know each other is already working.”
“I remain a mystery, however.” I wiggle my brows.
“We’ll work on that,” he says, his eyes flicking down to my sweater. “Starting with—did you seriously go to Harvard?”
I thrifted this sweater so long ago I forgot what it even said across the front. “No, heh,notHarvard. I went to Lakehead for Outdoor Recreation, Parks, and Tourism, with a concentration in nature-based therapeutic recreation. I have a bachelor’s degree in how to take people canoeing for their mental health, essentially.”
“Don’t do that,” Bo says sternly.
“What?” I blink at double speed.
“Dismiss yourself like that. That sounds really fucking cool and important to me. Don’t trivialise what you accomplished.”
“Oh, uh, well… thanks.”
“What did you want to do after your degree?”
“The dream was to open a summer camp for kids with disabilities. A place built to show them how to adapt the equipment, give them the time and patience to learn that they hadn’t gotten anywhere else. But obviously, that didn’t happen.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t that happen? It seems to make so much sense.”
