by Hale, B. N.
“I never saw snow until I came here,” she said softly.
“Really?” he asked.
She caught another snowflake. “I first saw snow my freshman year,” she said. “I stood outside and let it drift onto my shoulders, stunned by the quiet and peace.”
“I love the snow,” he said, the smile evident in his tone. “It makes me want to curl up and read a book by the window.”
She twisted her head to look at him. “What books?”
They talked books and movies, laughing as they quoted their favorites. Their taste in literature was largely shared, and they both loved Harry Potter. He’d read all the books but admitted having only seen the first few movies, a fact that drew no small amount of ire.
“Aren’t you cold?” he finally asked.
She smiled. “I’m actually warm.”
His eyebrows knit together as if he doubted her words. She met his gaze while flakes of snow floated around them, an endless vista of drifting white. She wondered if such magic permeated every date, but in that moment she didn’t care.
“Tell me another fact,” she said.
“I have a numb spot on my ankle,” he said.
“How?”
“I cut my leg when I was a kid and the doctors said I nicked a nerve. It’s about two inches long.”
“I’ve broken five bones,” she replied.
“At the same time?”
Her laughter was muffled by the snow. “Each a different accident, two by car, one by hammock, one by horse, and one by friend.”
“Your friend broke your arm?” he asked.
“He didn’t mean to,” she said. “We were at a party and he was drinking and tripped on a step. He went down and knocked me down the stairs.”
“And you forgave him?”
“He wasn’t a mean drunk,” she said with a smile. “Just a clumsy one.”
He laughed. “I don’t drink.”
“At all?”
“Nope,” he replied. “Never have. My dad liked to and I didn’t like what it did to him.”
“You’ve told me about your sister but not your parents,” she said.
Reed shrugged and told a story of his parents, who were also divorced. When Reed was sixteen his dad had left his phone home and she found a wealth of incriminating texts. He’d returned from work to find everything he owned on the lawn.
“Do you see him often?” she asked.
“Not anymore,” he said. “He’s dating a woman in Virginia and is more interested in her than me or my sister.” He laughed sourly. “I’m sure that’s how every divorce goes.”
“Not my parents,” Kate said. “One day they realized they were just friends, so they split up. They’re still friends. I think they’re even in a bowling league together.”
He snorted. “I don’t think that’s normal.”
“I agree,” she said. “But their bowling team is really good.”
He laughed. “I think if my parents went bowling she’d crush him with the ball.”
She watched his expression as he talked about his parents but it didn’t last long. He took the first opportunity to steer the conversation to lighter topics, and she got the impression he didn’t usually talk about his family with his dates.
With the snow caressing their cheeks, they spoke of their time in school and their goals. The drifting snow settled into his black hair and she laughed and brushed it free. She recalled running her hands through Jason’s hair, but the memory was no longer tinged with regret.
Reed’s features were darkened by shadows, but the streetlights cast a dim glow on his form. He lay in the boat next to her—yet not against her. The spacing was no doubt intentional as he held to his inner rules. She wanted to scoot closer but suspected he would pull away. Despite the distance she felt an inexorable pull, and found in his eyes a sense of grounding she’d thought lost.
When he noticed her shivering he frowned and lifted her up. “Time to leave.”
“Can we do one more run?” she pleaded.
He smiled. “As you wish.”
Chapter 6
One run turned into ten, and for the next hour they boated down the snow. At one point they briefly did battle, throwing snowballs at each other with unbridled fury until laughter overcame them. She would have stayed all night, but the dropping temperature finally drove them from the park. Breathless and elated, she reluctantly sprinted to the car.
Shivering, she sat in the car waiting for the heat to warm her skin, but the fan kept cutting out. Prepared for the possibility, Reed pulled a blanket from the back seat and handed it to her. Kate wrapped herself in the cloth and cast a look at the hill while the car backed out of the lot. She watched the snowy slope until a building blocked it from view, wondering if she would ever again feel such a sense of freedom.
“This isn’t really fair,” Kate said, still shivering.
“What do you mean?” he asked, blowing warm breath onto his hands.
“You plan this date so it cannot be beaten,” she said. “And from now on every other date will just be disappointing.”
“It’s not my fault other guys don’t do this,” he said, and jerked a thumb at the park.
“Seriously,” she said, and then skewered him with a look. “How many girls have fallen in love with you just from one date?”
“Love is a strong word,” he said. “And I’ve never said it to a girl before.”
“More rules?” she asked with a laugh. She realized her hair was in disarray and raked her hands through it, trying to tame the mess. “But how many have said they loved you?” she pressed.
“Some have misconstrued my intentions in the past,” he admitted.
His tone had gained a defensive note. Reed really did like to make a date happy, but didn’t do it out of attraction or interest. Again, she sensed there was more from his past than he wasn’t saying.
She was curious, but decided not to press the question, instead asking him about his coursework. He was easy to talk to and funny, and she found the conversation as delightful as the activities of the date.
“My brothers almost shot one of my boyfriends,” she said.
His eyes widened. “Really?”
She grinned, recalling the memory. “He honked from the road and they ‘happened’ to be cleaning their guns at the time. They marched out to explain how I should be treated. He was understandably apologetic.”
“And your brothers?”
“Two are military,” she said. “One Air Force and going for Special Forces, the other went into the Marines, much to my father’s irritation. The third decided he liked cars instead of boot camp.”
“Should I be nervous?” he asked.
“Only if you mistreat me,” she said.
He saluted. “I’ll do my best.”
The fan kicked on and she leaned into the sudden heat, grateful for the warmth. Shivering again, she let the heat blast her face until her limbs began to tingle with warmth. Then she noticed her shoes and pointed to the marks.
“Not every girl would have been willing to get their shoes dirty,” she said.
“Ember said you like the outdoors,” he said. “I figured it was worth the risk.”
“It was worth it,” she said. “But I’m not sure you can top the downhill boating.”
“We’ll see,” he replied, his blue eyes sparkling as he turned onto campus and pulled onto a street leading up a hill.
“Is that the observatory?” she asked.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like the stars.”
“But I expected something . . . more.” She smiled to let him know she was teasing.
He grinned. “Watching the stars is perhaps a little cliché. But that’s not why we’re here.”
He parked in the empty lot and stepped around the car to open her door. Then he led her up the stairs to the front entrance. To her surprise Reed produced a key and unlocked the door, allowing them entry. Locking it behind them, he guided her through the darkene
d offices to the theater at the back.
“My friend works here,” he said. “And she said we could use it for tonight.”
He entered the theater and made his way to a table set up at the back, where a thermos and several jars were placed in neat order. He pulled two mugs from the stack and poured steaming hot chocolate from the thermos.
“I’m allergic to chocolate.”
“You and your roommates drink it by the gallon every fall,” he said.
She laughed in chagrin. “You asked Marta if I drink hot chocolate?”
“Didn’t have to,” he replied. “She likes to talk, and the last few months you were a frequent topic of conversation. She’d tried to get me to take you out before, but my schedule was already full.”
“You already knew about Jason,” she suddenly realized.
“Guilty,” he said, “but it was a skewed version.” He then gestured to the jars lined up on the table. “You can add whatever you like. Personally, I suggest the junior mints, or perhaps the peanut butter, if you’re feeling adventurous.”
Reed added junior mints and a candy cane, and then put a handful of Oreos and mint fudge cookies onto a napkin. Uncertain what to make of his knowledge regarding Jason, she dropped the junior mints into her cup and added a mountain of miniature marshmallows. Then she grabbed her own cookies and followed him to the back seats of the theater.
Finally settling on irritation, she said, “You knew about Jason and let me talk anyway.”
“I’m not sure how much I knew,” Reed said, taking a seat. “Coming from her, the story was tinged with a shocking amount of hatred. The blondes are certainly loyal.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his use of the nickname. She sipped on the hot chocolate and then nibbled on her cookie. His smile was now apologetic, and she couldn’t hold onto her irritation.
“The after-date dessert is good,” she said, and meant it. The drink was delicious and warm after the snow, and she relished the sensation of heat spreading throughout her body.
He pulled a remote into view and aimed it toward the projector booth. “I hope you like Looney Toons.”
The familiar Bugs Bunny appeared on the enormous curved screen, the distinct WB introduction coming through the speakers. Delighted with the choice in video, she sipped her hot chocolate for several minutes and just enjoyed the moment. Then she threw him a look.
“This is usually when the guy would try to kiss me.”
“Rest easy,” he said without taking his eyes from the ceiling. “I told you my rules.”
“What if your date tries to kiss you?”
“Shh,” he said. “I love Marvin the Martian.”
She smiled and returned her attention to the hot chocolate. The episode was childish but amusing, and gave a sense of nostalgia that reminded her of childhood. Even if she tried, she could not stop the smile on her face.
Part of her wanted to embrace the attraction she felt for Reed, but his behavior made it abundantly clear that he dated a lot. As she watched the cartoons she found herself wondering about the other girls and fighting jealousy. Then she frowned and reminded herself that Reed had pulled her from her haze of regret, and that was likely the source of her attraction. That’s all it was. But even in her mind it sounded like a lie.
Chapter 7
They watched one episode and then another. When the third finished Reed checked his watch and sighed. He turned off the projector, and the lights returned to the image of the stars. Then he rose and gathered the supplies, putting everything into a box that had been underneath the table. She helped gather it and then looked to him.
“Just how long did it take to set this up?”
“A couple of hours,” he replied as they walked to the door.
“Is that normal?”
He grunted in amusement. “You are the most curious date I’ve ever had.”
“You invest time into a girl you don’t even know,” she said. “And I still wonder why.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Best date I’ve ever had,” she said.
“Then it was worth it,” he said.
They walked to the car together and he popped the trunk to put the box inside the partially deflated boat. Then he stepped to her door and unlocked it, swinging it open for her. Their eyes connected as he stepped to the side, and she was surprised to find him even more attractive than when he’d appeared on her doorstep.
Their eyes met and she marveled at the blue. The snow was still descending, and it had again settled into his hair. His smile was earnest and light, and he didn’t flinch from the proximity. He held the door for her, an act few guys had ever done, yet did so with the ease of familiarity.
She instinctively drifted closer to him and tilted her chin upward, a universal invitation. Attraction flickered in Reed’s eyes before his features tightened and he withdrew. The sting was sudden but brief, and she forced an awkward laugh, using the moment to slip into the car.
Reed shut her door and strode around the car to get into the driver’s seat. After a moment of silence their conversation resumed on the way back to her house, but inwardly she considered her action, wondering at his response. He’d warned her, but she’d never quite believed him.
“In by midnight,” he said as he put the car in park.
“Another rule?”
“One I try to stick to,” he said. “But for practical reasons. I still have work and school.”
He came around the car and opened her door, walking her to her door. After the moment at the observatory she wasn’t certain what to expect, but he smiled and offered a hug, which she gladly returned. When they parted she began to laugh.
“The bar has been set,” she said.
“Then my work is complete,” he said. “Goodnight Kate. I had fun tonight.”
He pretended to tip an imaginary hat and then left. He climbed into his Camry and it coughed to life, and she turned and swung the door open, stepping into the familiar warmth of her house. Like lions to prey, the blondes pounced.
“How was it?”
“You weren’t out very late.”
“Did he kiss you?”
Kate’s smile returned, and for the first time she noticed a spot of chocolate on her coat. Wiping it with her finger, she stared at the smudge while her roommates’ questions became more ardent. She didn’t answer because she didn’t know how to, but for some reason she thought of the story she’d shared when she’d jumped into the river.
“Well?” Ember demanded, “What was it like?”
Kate finally met their eyes. “Like falling,” she murmured. “Only I think this time I liked the impact.” They stared at her in confusion, but her smile only widened.
They demanded answers and Kate dished, wanting to cement the night into memory before it could fade. Her roommates gave the appropriate praise and shock to each event, with all three displaying matching expressions of wonder.
“But you weren’t dressed for the snow!” Ember exclaimed.
Kate laughed and proceeded with the telling, relishing the attention from her captive audience. With a start she realized it was the first time in a year she’d sat with her roommates and just talked.
Brittney darted to the kitchen and returned with two plates of cookies, one her famous white chocolate macadamia nut, the second her double chocolate fudge. She offered both plates to Kate.
“Chocolate for a terrible Valentine’s Day,” she said. “Or your favorite if you had a good night.”
Kate grinned and picked up a white chocolate macadamia nut, drawing crows of delight from the girls. Kate couldn’t suppress the smirk as she bit into the cookie and savored the distinct flavors.
“Are you going out again?” Ember asked.
Kate almost said yes but hesitated. She wanted to—a great deal actually—and not just because the date was fun. Reed was interesting and honorable. And there was clearly more to him that begged to be discovered.
She could not deny the
attraction she felt towards him, and took a moment to try and explain it away. But the harder she told herself it was just Reed being nice, the more she wanted to see his smile again. But would he want to date her?
She’d seen attraction in Reed’s eyes when she’d given the opportunity for a kiss, an undeniable desire to reach for her. Still, she suspected it was not enough for him to ask her out on a second date. He’d made it clear he didn’t date exclusively. Then she had an idea.
“We’ll go out again,” she said firmly.
“When?” Marta asked, eager for details.
Kate’s smile turned sly. “When I ask him.”
Excerpt from Volume 2
Reed stared at the calendar on his wall. Packed with classes, work, and other activities, it also tracked his upcoming dates. It was the middle of the semester and he had a good idea of the school workload, but his research class was brutal, with more homework than the other two combined.
He tapped his pencil on his desk, considering whom he’d set up for his date next Saturday. Sara was an old friend, one he’d taken on several dates. They were in the same program and frequently studied for exams together. She was fun and flirty and whenever he had a free night he took her out. The following week was Melissa, a girl he’d met in the library. Two weeks after that was Jill, a recent graduate and a friend of a friend. She didn’t yet know his rules.
He didn’t kiss or hold hands unless he wanted to date exclusively. The rule came as a surprise to most of his dates, especially girls that were used to guys wanting much more. But for him the rule was essential, allowing him to avoid the inevitable complications that came with sex. He’d also been raised to believe that sex should be reserved for marriage. He recognized that the current culture viewed the notion as archaic, but he found the prospect appealing.
As he looked across his calendar his eyes were drawn to a day two weeks ago, Valentine’s Day. Blind dates were not uncommon for him, and many of his friends or former dates liked to set him up. But this had been different, and Kate lingered on his mind.