“Ermghm,” Leo says, blushing.
“And I can’t help but remember that Will lives in New York City.” Leo’s hands twist into a complicated formation behind his back. Rex is shaking his head at me, amused. “I just meant that if you go to New York to look at schools, maybe Will could show you around,” I say innocently.
Leo shakes his head and drops back into his chair.
“Will doesn’t give a shit about me,” he says with more bitterness than I’d realized he was capable of, and I feel instantly bad for teasing him.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Rex says, but I can tell he won’t outright lie to the kid so he can’t say anything more than that.
“Oh yeah, then why did he leave town right after he kissed me?” Leo blurts out, looking furious and hurt. “Oops,” he says, clapping a hand to his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“Will kissed you?” Rex asks, sounding curious but confused.
“Will kissed you?” I say. “Jesus, rob the cradle much?”
I’m joking—mostly—but Leo’s lip starts to tremble and his chin starts to wobble. I look desperately at Rex.
“Shit, Leo, I’m sorry,” I say. “I was just kidding.”
“No, you’re right,” he says. “Will just thinks I’m a kid. He doesn’t care that I—” Leo breaks off, shaking his head as tears course down his cheeks.
Rex comes around the counter and pulls a chair up next to Leo’s, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Leo, Will went back to New York because he couldn’t take any more time off from work. He was here to help his sister out for a bit, but he was always going back.”
“But, um,” I say, wanting to do my part in making Leo feel better, “if you do end up going to school in New York, then maybe….” I trail off when I notice Rex shaking his head at me very subtly.
Rex rubs Leo’s back and then gives him a hearty, definitive pat.
“Will’s a good guy,” he tells Leo, “but you don’t want to get involved with him.”
“You did,” Leo says, managing to sound jealous, scornful, and flirtatious all at the same time. Ah, youth.
“Different,” Rex says, and he goes back to making lunch.
“Look, man,” I tell Leo, “it’s Will’s loss, okay?”
The smell of bacon fills the kitchen and Leo perks up.
“Bacon?” he says, and Rex just smiles.
WHEN REX wakes me up on Sunday morning, six inches of snow have fallen and more is predicted for later this afternoon. It’s early—only six or so—and I bury my face in his neck with an indistinct sound of protest.
At Rex’s urging, I’ve started working at his house when I don’t need to use the library. He cleared off a large table he kept in his workshop and set it up for me in the living room, replacing the small one he only used occasionally. Writing felt effortless last night, and I know better than to waste a flow like that, so I didn’t stumble in to bed until about 3:00 a.m. Rex was warm and sleepy and immediately pulled me into his heat. But I definitely do not appreciate having to wake up three hours later.
“’S too early,” I complain into his neck. “Go back to sleep.”
Rex rubs my back softly and I relax against him.
“Wake up, baby,” he says. “I’ll make breakfast. Go get in the shower and you’ll feel better.”
“Ungh, why?” I’m whining. It’s probably not attractive and I make an effort to stop.
“’Cause we gotta go soon.”
“Where?” Rex’s hand is back, running up my spine and into the hair at the nape of my neck.
“Surprise,” he says. Then he kisses my cheek and slaps me on the ass. “Up,” he says.
“Tyrant,” I growl, but I roll out of bed and head toward the bathroom. It turns out that a slap on the ass is a very effective alarm.
After I shower and we eat breakfast, we get on the road. The only concession he makes to my questions is to tell me to wear his extra pair of snow boots, which are way too big on me.
“So help me god, Rex, if you woke me up at 6:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning to take me on some kind of winter hiking trip, I will end you,” I say as we walk to the truck and I trip over my too-big boots almost immediately.
Rex just chuckles and kisses me as he grabs me by the shoulder. He puts me in the truck and reaches over me to buckle my seat belt. When he’s level with my face, he kisses me breathless. He nods, as if satisfied I won’t complain any more, and then gets in the driver’s side, putting one hand on my thigh.
We drive for over an hour but I fall asleep almost immediately despite the coffee I downed right before we left. When I open my eyes, the truck’s parked in a snow-cloaked field. In front of us and out my window, the snow is undisturbed. It looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere. The sun is shining and it’s nearly blinding, like the truck is our boat on an ocean of snow. It’s beautiful.