rabbit outfit. My feet were still cold from the mountain, so I kept my thick green wool socks on. Catching a peek at myself in the old mirror hanging on the wall, I nearly choked out a laugh. After hours stuck under a ski hat, my dark hair now looked like it had been sucked into the vortex of a tornado, and the clothes made me resemble a cotton-candy marshmallow. It made me relax enough to open the door.
When I emerged from the bedroom, Jack was crouching next to the fire, his back to me and a mug of hot chocolate in his hand.
“That looks cozy,” I said in a timid voice.
He turned at the sound and—taking in my appearance— immediately spit hot chocolate all over.
“What?” I demanded.
With an obvious effort to compose himself, he forced his lips into a frown and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Breathtaking.”
I raised an eyebrow, and his lips started to quiver, and then there was no stopping him. The laughter came in waves.
“Well, that’s not exactly the reaction I was going for,” I said.
“Isn’t it?” he said, gasping for breath.
I put my hand on my hip and tapped my foot as he inhaled deeply and rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. “Finished?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I love you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me.” He stood and walked toward me.
I glanced down at my sweats, and then back at his face. “Did you not notice my getup?”
He halved the distance between us. “Oh yeah. I noticed,” he said, like it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. His lips curled up into a smile.
“Okay, so that’s not the reaction I was going for either,” I said, taking a small step backward as he closed the gap between us.
He grabbed my hands in his and his grin disappeared. “Becks. I think I know what you’re worried about, but I meant what I said. I love you. And I would never push you.”
My entire body turned red. “But don’t you mythological higher beings”—I tried to remember how Jules had put it— “need … the … um…”
Jack looked confused, and then he chuckled. “Please don’t even try to finish that sentence.”
The nerves had taken over, and there seemed to be a short between my brain and my mouth. “But you’ve had … the… I mean, I know I’m not … the … first…”
“Becks. Please.” He pulled me over onto the couch, in front of the fire. “Look, my history isn’t exactly a secret.” He shrugged. “I’d change it if I could.”
I wrapped the drawstring of my sweats around my index finger. “Okay,” I mumbled.
“Don’t hide your face from me.” He placed his fingers lightly under my chin and urged my gaze up. “It’s you. And I don’t want to screw it up.”
Could he be serious? I didn’t know whether to believe him or to assume I really did look that undesirable. Jack had a rep for easy one-nighters. How long before he grew tired of waiting for me?
It didn’t matter. Right at that moment, I knew my dad was right. I was totally overwhelmed by Jack Caputo. There would be no going back.
I took his arm and put it around me so I could curl into his chest and hear his heartbeat, which despite his calm demeanor, was racing. He held me close and tight, as if he were tucking a football.
He pressed his lips into my hair. “I love you, Becks. I’ve never felt like this.”
I nodded against him, still unsure if I could believe him. I thought about Lacey and the way she was standing next to him. “You’ve never been in love?”
He let out a quiet breath, and I felt him shake his head. “Easy to say. Harder to feel.” He ran his fingers through my hair and tucked a few strands behind my ear. With a lighter voice, he said, “Out of curiosity, what would you have said if I wanted to…”
“I would’ve said no.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “I’m glad you didn’t, because that would have been awkward.”
His chest shuddered with laughter.
EIGHT
NOW
The soup kitchen. Four months left.
M y days on
When I emerged from the bedroom, Jack was crouching next to the fire, his back to me and a mug of hot chocolate in his hand.
“That looks cozy,” I said in a timid voice.
He turned at the sound and—taking in my appearance— immediately spit hot chocolate all over.
“What?” I demanded.
With an obvious effort to compose himself, he forced his lips into a frown and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Breathtaking.”
I raised an eyebrow, and his lips started to quiver, and then there was no stopping him. The laughter came in waves.
“Well, that’s not exactly the reaction I was going for,” I said.
“Isn’t it?” he said, gasping for breath.
I put my hand on my hip and tapped my foot as he inhaled deeply and rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. “Finished?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I love you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me.” He stood and walked toward me.
I glanced down at my sweats, and then back at his face. “Did you not notice my getup?”
He halved the distance between us. “Oh yeah. I noticed,” he said, like it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. His lips curled up into a smile.
“Okay, so that’s not the reaction I was going for either,” I said, taking a small step backward as he closed the gap between us.
He grabbed my hands in his and his grin disappeared. “Becks. I think I know what you’re worried about, but I meant what I said. I love you. And I would never push you.”
My entire body turned red. “But don’t you mythological higher beings”—I tried to remember how Jules had put it— “need … the … um…”
Jack looked confused, and then he chuckled. “Please don’t even try to finish that sentence.”
The nerves had taken over, and there seemed to be a short between my brain and my mouth. “But you’ve had … the… I mean, I know I’m not … the … first…”
“Becks. Please.” He pulled me over onto the couch, in front of the fire. “Look, my history isn’t exactly a secret.” He shrugged. “I’d change it if I could.”
I wrapped the drawstring of my sweats around my index finger. “Okay,” I mumbled.
“Don’t hide your face from me.” He placed his fingers lightly under my chin and urged my gaze up. “It’s you. And I don’t want to screw it up.”
Could he be serious? I didn’t know whether to believe him or to assume I really did look that undesirable. Jack had a rep for easy one-nighters. How long before he grew tired of waiting for me?
It didn’t matter. Right at that moment, I knew my dad was right. I was totally overwhelmed by Jack Caputo. There would be no going back.
I took his arm and put it around me so I could curl into his chest and hear his heartbeat, which despite his calm demeanor, was racing. He held me close and tight, as if he were tucking a football.
He pressed his lips into my hair. “I love you, Becks. I’ve never felt like this.”
I nodded against him, still unsure if I could believe him. I thought about Lacey and the way she was standing next to him. “You’ve never been in love?”
He let out a quiet breath, and I felt him shake his head. “Easy to say. Harder to feel.” He ran his fingers through my hair and tucked a few strands behind my ear. With a lighter voice, he said, “Out of curiosity, what would you have said if I wanted to…”
“I would’ve said no.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “I’m glad you didn’t, because that would have been awkward.”
His chest shuddered with laughter.
EIGHT
NOW
The soup kitchen. Four months left.
M y days on
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