It’s cold as hell outside after class and on top of that it snowed this afternoon, so everything’s even colder.
I stand outside the train station, shivering in the coat I borrowed from Rafael even though it’s zipped up over several layers of hoodies. I’m not even that early, so where the hell is Beck?
People eye me quizzically as they pass by on their way into the train station. I know I look like an idiot all bundled up in coats too big for me, a hand-knitted scarf covering most of my face, and a somewhat ragged hat pulled down over my choppy hair. Or maybe a hobo. It doesn’t help that I keep hopping on one foot or the other to get some blood going.
I’m about ready to give up on Beck when, at long last, a familiar-looking Aston Martin pulls into the parking lot by the station. He has a driver today. Of course, Beck slips out of the backseat looking like a model for some designer’s winter wear, only making me look even more wretched in comparison.
His peacoat looks tailored, and the navy blue scarf he tugs over his mouth and nose highlights his cheekbones and the gray eyes above them. He tugs a gray fur-lined cap onto his head, letting the ear flaps hang down to frame his face as he searches the platform for a moment before spotting me. He shoves his hands into his pockets and strides toward me like a male model on a catwalk.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice muffled from beneath the scarf. His eyes dart down to where I stand. “Stop that. Come with me.”
I stop hopping on my foot and fall into step beside him. “Where are we going?”
“The forest.”
“The forest?” I repeat incredulously.
“Don’t be weird. One of our assigned books has a passage about a meeting in a thicket.”
I vaguely remember something like that, but I still feel my mind searching. Do I really want to be out alone in the forest with Beck? Not to mention the fact that I was really looking forward to getting out of the cold, even just for a bit.
“Didn’t you have some places you wanted to look at in another city?”
“We’ll get on the train for that.”
“Not your car?” I ask, trying not to huff and puff as I crunch in the snow next to Beck.
“Last time I asked you if you needed a ride, you seemed uncomfortable,” he grunts in reply. “Figured you’d be happier with the train.”
I’m shocked into silence. He’s trying to be … considerate?
We reach the tree line of the woods near the train station and plunge past it. The snow is thicker here, untouched by human feet. I guess we’re the only people crazy enough to come here on a day like this.
We don’t have to walk too far, thankfully, before we get to a small clearing. The pine trees are tall above us, but this dense growth of shrubs tangle themselves around a fallen tree trunk.
“Well.” Beck grabs one of the snow-covered branches and shoves it out of the way. He ducks beneath it and slips into the heart of the thicket.
“Wait!” I hurry after him, struggling to move the same branch he did, but it’s all tangled up with others.
“It’s hollow in here,” Beck says interestedly as I peer in. He’s right, he’s sitting on untouched grass with his legs crossed. The tree branches grow so close together overhead that the snow has still left this little spot untouched. He glances up as I continue to struggle with the branch.
“Need a hand?” he asks, his voice bland but his hand still outstretched in another surprisingly considerate gesture.
“Maybe,” I grunt, after struggling for another moment to no avail.
He comes forward on his knees and pushes some of the overgrowth out of my way as he reaches for my hand, but he does the former too soon for me to keep my balance and the latter too late to catch me before I fall through the hole he’s made and into the little hollow.
I smash into him and take him with me. We tumble for a moment, Beck grunting as he finally lands on his back with me on his chest.
“Off,” he grunts again as he tries to push me away, but he’s not angry. Instead, his shoulders shake as he bursts into laughter.
I’m pressed against him, chest to chest, paranoid that he must be able to feel my bound breasts. I roll off him as quickly as I can, my eyes averted from his.
“I meant to do that,” I gasp, once I’ve finished disentangling myself from him.
“Sure you did,” he says with another laugh.
“Best way to enter a hollow inside a thicket,” I respond, dryly.