Page 44 of Abdominal Snowman

Anytime today, buckaroo—

“What do you wish for?” Soren finally asked, gaze lifting to hers.

Sage paused. She had no idea what kind of answer he was looking for, but the one that came to mind was… too personal.

“Can you narrow it down a little?” she requested, playing casual. “Doesn’t everyone wish for a lot of things?”

Soren shook his head. “I’m not talking about winning the lottery. I’m talking about something that’s… ah, I’m not sure how to explain it. I guess there’s no right answer.”

Heat slowly warmed her cheeks as she thought about his question. Her answer probably wasn’t very original. It was probably every little girl’s dream. But maybe that was the problem—Sage wasn’t a little girl anymore.

It wasn’t even something she’d admitted to Mom, or Gabi, or anyone. And maybe it was just silly anyway, but she’d always… always wished—every birthday and every coin toss in a fountain—that she’d fall in love.

Telling him that felt more embarrassing than… than just taking her clothes off. Sage chewed her lip, feeling her cheeks grow hotter.

Sage didn’t deal well with emotions. Not usually. And sharing something so personal was emotional.

God. Damn. Him.

At least it would be secret payback.

He was feeling like a titties man tonight, huh? Well, he could just have his fill and keep his ass right in that chair with the Jenga tower between them.

It’d serve him right.

Fucker.

With a sigh and a pointed stare right into those icy blues, Sage tugged her bralette off, slapping it on the floor. Her gaze was defiant as she plopped back into place, hyperaware of how exposed she was. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air, but when she heard Soren gulp, she hid her smug smile behind another sip of beer.

“Cold?” he asked.

She snorted and finally dragged her gaze to his.

It was different, this was different.

Sage could almost feel the icy line his eyes drew as they dragged down her body, and she shivered.

It was amusing, the way Soren couldn’t decide whether to be obvious and drop his eyes or lift his gaze and stare at her face.

“Alright, ask me something,” he urged, standing to tug a block from the tower.

Sage couldn’t hide her grin, and she also couldn’t hide how titillating it was for Soren to stand to his full height. He was just… so big.

He towered over her and the coffee table and couch and tower, awaiting her next question.

Oh.

Shaking her head, Sage leaned forward, plucking a block from the tower.

“What do you do out in the garage?” It was innocent enough.

Soren winced and reached his hands to the hem of his shirt, slowly dragging the cotton fabric over his head. He tossed it to the side before shrugging. “There. Now we’re equal.”

Sage couldn’t help but stare, the Jenga game forgotten. The questions she had faded from her mind as all her focus shifted to the image Soren made.

It wasn’t just his sculpted body, even though someone had spent ages forming each slight curve of his abs, thick waist, and broad chest. It was him.

It was how closed off he was, but how willing he was to let her ease her way inside. It was the gentleness he treated her with, so different from the kid gloves she’d experienced for the last who knew how long.