I BLINK UP AT HER, WANTING TO GO BACK TO THE PART ABOUT her dad. Or thement about her size. Because I barely know her, but I’m pissed off that anyone could make her feel that way about herself. I’ve been in her presence for just over an hour, and I can tell she’s got a knack for helping people. For making a dark room feel just a little bit brighter. And that’s not something you can learn in the pages of a book.

    But I can tell by the way she quickly hefts her bag over her shoulder and nces around that she’s practically running in the opposite direction of that conversation.

    So, I let my agitation go and ask, “Do something? Here?”

    “Yeah.” She shrugs. “Where else? There’s gotta be something to entertain us.”

    “I was thinking of sleeping.”

    “Pfft.” She waves me off. “Please. How many times in your life are you going to be stuck in an airport overnight?”

    “Hopefully only once?”

    “Exactly! This is a core memory. A night we’ll tell our kids about one day.”

    I wince. Kids. That’s a sore spot tonight, but she doesn’t notice the sobering effect her words have on me. She just carries on, unruffled.

    “And if the story ends with Iy on a dirty floor unsessfully trying to fall asleep for hours, it’s going to be the worst story. Don’t live life with regrets, Sebastian.”

    Fuck me. It’s like she’s found my fresh wound and is squeezing her limes right into it.

    Her arm shoots out, hand stretched toward me. “Come on. Don’t quit on me now. I have a deep inner need to make you like me, and I feel like I’m getting close.”

    With a roll of my eyes, I toss back thest of my margarita. “I like you just fine, Gwen,” I grumble as I reach for her hand.

    “That’s what you keep saying. But I’m not settling for fine,” she volleys, giving my arm an eager tug.

    It feels strange to be holding hands with a woman I only just met. And yet, as she leads me out of the restaurant, I don’t pull away. I let her thread her dainty fingers through mine, as though we’ve done this a thousand times before. Heat hums through my hand, racing up the veins in my arm.

    She warms me. And a cautious optimism surges from within. It makes me think that maybe—just maybe—despite my surliness and sour mood, she might be enjoying mypany.

    I hope she is. Because I know I’m enjoying hers, bewildered as that might make me.

    She turns and leads us into the long, open hallway, pulling me along on her adventure.

    My eyes drop to her round ass—jeans hugging her hourss shape perfectly, curved hips swaying confidently with every stride.

    Yeah, she’s hot as hell. She’s fucking trouble.

    I let my hand fall away as I take a couple of longer strides to catch up with her. Walking side by side seems more appropriate now that I’ve taken a few breaths of fresh air and looked at something other than her unusual eyes and soft lips.

    Gwen nces over her shoulder at me, her expression almost disappointed. Which is impossible. So I brush the thought away with a question.

    “Where are we going?”

    She shrugs, gazing around with an expression of wonder on her face and a sh of amusement on her features. “I don’t know. Do we need a n? Maybe we’ll just walk along, and something will catch our eye.”

    My Adam’s apple bobs in my throat as I regard her and wonder what the hell was in those margaritas. Because my mind is consumed by one thought: something has caught my eye.

    She peeks at me. “I know what you need.”

    I flush, feeling like a kid caught gawking. I sure hope not.

    “You need a pick-me-up before we go on our adventure.”

    “I think all the coffee shops are closed.”

    She justughs and leads me toward a stretch of darkened windows that faces out into the snowy night. I watch as she kicks off her shoes, sits down cross-legged, andys her palms over her knees.

    She doesn’t call me over, but I go all the same, intrigued by the woman and her zest for life. I could use a little of that zest, and I know it—I just don’t know how to find it. Not when it feels like thest several years of my life have been one big cosmic joke.

    “What are you doing?”

    “Meditating.” I can hear the smile in her smooth voice.

    “Why?”

    “Because it can be just as restorative as sleep. And I don’t want to waste my night sleeping.” She pats the space beside her, a silent invite for me to join.

    “I’m not really a meditator,” I grumble, though I still fold myself down beside her while wondering what the fuck I’m doing. My knee brushes the tips of her fingers, and I stare at her hand before shifting away to leave a few inches of space between us. I’m stiff as hell and must look like a busted-up pretzel trying to match her position. I don’t think I’ve sat cross-legged since grade school.

    “Okay. Well, just sit here for a while then.”

    I sneak a nce in her direction to see that her eyes are now closed and her lips are tipped up in a soft smile. “And do what?”

    Her smile widens, but hershes stay down, casting shadows over her apple cheeks. “Nothing.”

    “Do nothing?” Doing nothing is not my forte. I pride myself on staying busy, on always having a project on the go. Hell, I could take winters off since I quit going overseas to fight fires. I have enough money saved up to spend the season in Mexico, sipping margaritas on the beach. And yet, here I am, building up a contracting business and taking odd jobs over the winter months.

    She peeks out of the eye closest to me. “It’s harder than it sounds.”

    I bristle at that. “I know it is. It’s impossible.”

    Her chin tips up as that one eye draws shut once again. “It’s not impossible. It’s good for you. But it takes practice. See if you can let your mind be nk.”

    nk? I scoff. Not after this week. “That’s impossible.”

    She doesn’t respond to my feelings, though. Instead, she says, “Stare at the snow out the window. Watch it fall. Pick a single ke and watch its course. Then pick another one. Do it all over again.”

    “What’s the point?” I ask, out of genuine curiosity. The way her brain works is… refreshing. And I want to know more about it. I think I’d like to spend some time in her brain just so I can get the hell out of mine.

    “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The snow. Each ke has its own unique shape. That hush of quiet it brings to the world. You have nowhere to be. You’re safe and warm. Peaceful.” She sighs thest word, chest rising and falling.

    Peaceful.

    I turn and face the window, considering her words.

    Peaceful.

    It’s thest thing I’ve felttely. But as I stare at the snow, falling thick and soft, I have to admit I feel a glimmer of it stir within me—a soft corner amid all my rough edges.

    My gazetches on to a single ke, following its gentle descent.

    Then another.

    And another.

    I lose count of how many I watch fall or how much time passes. I wouldn’t say that my mind is nk, but it’s… soothed. And it’s only Gwen moving beside me that draws my attention away from the window. She’s shifted onto her knees and folded forward, her elbows propped on the floor with her hands held up in a prayer position.

    “You can follow along if you want to do some energy-boosting poses.”

    “That’s okay. I suspect I’d injure myself if I tried to do that.”

    She chuckles and carries on, breathing deeply, moving between yoga poses I recognize but couldn’t name.

    I watch her without shame. Her body moves with effortless grace, every curve on disy. I force myself not to leer, shifting my attention instead to her fingers syed on the floor, the way her bright hair falls in soft waves when she drops her head. The smell of her shampoo when it hits me—rosemary and mint.

    She’s borderline hypnotic. Flexible and feminine. And there’s something incredibly bold about her doing this right here and now, beside a man she barely knows.

    She doesn’t give a fuck what I think. Nor should she.

    And I admire that about her.

    This night has been one surprise after another. I don’t know how I got here, but it almost feels like I’m having fun.

    Stuck in an airport.

    With a fucking stranger.

    And what a stranger she is. I’m not usually taken with new people I meet. I usually have my guard up, reinforced and sky-high. Rock and ice.

    But Gwen has sted right through.

    Eventually she stops, her shoulders held tall but soft. Then hershes flutter open, and those unusual irises focus on me.

    “Were you watching me the whole time?”

    I feel my cheeks flush, but what’s the point in denying it? She could probably tell anyway.

    “Yes.”

    She searches my face before tilting her head. “And?”

    I swallow, mind racing with all the different ways I could answer that question. Commenting on how fucking incredible her ass looked when she was on all fours is definitely creepy and off the table, so I shrug and tell her something else that’s true. “I knew you’d be good at your job. The snowke thing almost worked.”

    She brightens, like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a dark winter night. Her entire body lifts with the simplepliment, and she sps her hands together in front of her chest. “Yeah?”

    I give her a firm, reassuring nod, wanting to leave no doubt in her mind as to the sincerity of myment. “Absolutely.”

    Her face breaks into the most heartrending smile.

    And all it does is make me want to pay her morepliments.