She looked up. “Oh, I don’t mind.”

He believed her. But he was also sure that on some level she did mind. She just wanted him to have his own space. Why his comfort mattered to her at all felt like a mystery.

He went into the living room and sat on the couch. “Sit,” he said, patting the cushion beside him.

She eyed him warily, but she stood slowly, collecting her papers and pencils, shutting the screen off on the tablet.

“You’ll be lost,” she said. “This is a short-run miniseries with an overarching mystery, and I’m halfway through.”

“I’m not really here for the TV show.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks turned pink and she sat, with a healthy amount of space between them.

He wasn’t lying. He didn’t watch the show; he watched her work. Watched her dark hair escape the bun she’d put it in and fall into her face. Watched the way she’d pause and chew the end of her pen while a particularly intense thing was happening on TV.

And she moved closer to him. Just fractions, every so often. Till they were nearly touching.

Until it felt like a natural thing to put his arm around her.

Lord. Like he was sixteen and this was a date. But he’d never been sweet and sixteen and on a date. He’d been running drugs and weapons on behalf of his father. He’d been given a woman on his birthday who’d taught him everything, except how to connect.

He’d never learned about sweet touches. Touches just for the sake of them. Connection.

Her breath seemed frozen in her throat. But she didn’t move away. And eventually she relaxed into him.

This was something he’d never done. Something he didn’t know. He couldn’t figure out how in the hell he’d ended up here, in this cozy little cabin with all the cold of December outside.

He looked at her, and she looked up at him, her face so close he could count her freckles.

“Do you want me to move?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Okay.”

They sat like that till the episode ended. Till the credits quit rolling. Then she moved, pulled away from him. “I’m confused,” she whispered.

“About the show? Because like you said, I just started it in the middle, so I have no idea what the hell is going on.”

“No.”

His gut went tight. “What exactly are you confused about?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, I’m not confused,” she said. “I guess.”

“Yes, you sound like someone who’s not confused at all.”

She stared at him, those dark eyes pinned to his. And he could feel a tug toward her that wasn’t like simple attraction. Wasn’t like anything he’d felt before. He wanted her. But if it was just wanting, that would’ve been simple. A simple no, because he wasn’t in any kind of position to offer her anything, and she was the kind of woman that made him want to offer the world.