“Where are your parents?” He looks around.
I don’t want to think about my parents.Another gust of wind cuts through me. Uncontrollable shivers rack my body.
“You’re freezing.” He shrugs out of his coat and wraps it around my shoulders. The heat from the cashmere is like a warm bath, sending little shocks through my system as my body begins to thaw. The garment is long enough to shield me from neck to ankles, and I realize how harshly the winter wind has been clawing at me. “I don’t need your coat.” As soon as the words slip out, I wince at how bratty I sound.
“Your teeth disagree.” A corner of his lips quirks a little.
Okay, so he heard my teeth chatter.I should probably shrug his coat off, but my shoulders refuse to move. My whole body is reveling in its warmth and its soft, clean smell of soap and pine. “Aren’t you cold?”
He shrugs his broad shoulders. He’s wearing a dark sweater and slacks, probably made of wool. The wind ruffles his hair, and he runs his fingers through it, easily putting it back in place.
If I were just a normal kid, I might be overcome with gratitude. But people are never nice to me just because. Maybe he’s a model who needs work. Or maybe he expects some money from my family for helping me. He wouldn’t be the first.
“Do you know who I am?” I ask stiffly.
He looks amused. “No. Should I?”
“Why are you being so nice to me, then?”
“Because you’re obviously cold.”
“So you’ve decided to give up your coat and be cold instead?”
“I’m warm enough.” He smiles charmingly.
It doesn’t make me feel better. It only reminds me of how easily Dad charms Mom, making her swoon and call him her “prince.”
So gross.
It’s wrong to be upset with this stranger for being nice, but the bitterness that’s been accumulating in my heart won’t shut up. “That makes you stupid, not charming,” I spit out, expecting a fight.
He laughs. “Well. I guess I’ll be stupid, then.”
Suddenly, all my resentment and anger drain away, replaced by shame. I’m just being bitchy when he’s been nothing but sweet. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not having a good day, but I shouldn’t be rude to you.”
“Apology accepted,” he says lightly. “So… You lost? Need help finding your parents or something?”
He wants to take me back to my parents, like a responsible adult. But I don’t want to go back. Not right now. Maybe not ever. “I’m just out for a walk.”
“A walk, huh?” A skeptical eyebrow jumps up.
Of course, nobody goes out for a walk in nothing but a light shirt, jeans and sneakers in the snow. But I’m not going to explain.
There’s a pause while we stand there in the snowfall. Finally he says, “Okay, well… Are you done with your walk?”
“Actually, I just want something warm to drink.” That’s better than admitting I have no place to go back to. Or at least no place that’ll welcome me.
“Fine.”
I expect him to take his coat and go on his way, but he puts a hand on my back and escorts me down the street like a gentleman. When we start to approach a brightly lit hotel, I slow down.
“Um…” I say, suddenly unsure about following him. All sorts of awful crime headlines flash through my mind.
“What?” He laughs softly. “You said you wanted something warm to drink. The hotel will have something. There’s a bar and café in the lobby.”
Sure enough, the hotel’s huge first-floor windows show people inside, waving their drinks around and laughing. Even in the cold, my cheeks start to heat with embarrassment.
We step inside, and he takes me to a booth in a quiet corner of the lobby away from the boisterous crowd. He speaks to a uniformed clerk in French and returns to me. “They’ll bring out some hot chocolate. That’s okay, right?”
