Snow drifted between us, tiny white pieces melting against his shoulders, my hair, the railing. Behind me, through the big kitchen windows, I could feel Jace’s family pretending they were not watching.
They were absolutely watching.
Drew’s eyes flicked over my shoulder.
Then back to me.
“Jace gave you the address?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“He said you might.”
“I’m serious.”
“So was he.”
Drew looked away, laughing once without humor.
“Great. You flew to Colorado.”
“Yes.”
“In the snow.”
“Yes.”
“You hate cold.”
“I’m developing character.”
His mouth twitched.
Barely.
Then he smothered it.
“No,” I said, stepping closer. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Hide from me behind almost smiling.”
His face closed again.
“Funny.”
“It’s not.”
“No, it’s funny because hiding is kind of your thing.”
“You’re right.”
His eyes came back to mine.
I forced myself not to look away.
