“You should. Especially if you’re going to be eating ice cream by the carton at midnight.”

“Whatever, Fox. You’re not complaining about my body.”

“No, you’re right, I’m not.” My eyes trail her body slowly, taking in the soft curve of her waist, and the smooth supple humps of her breasts. “We agree on that.”

I step forward and lean my hip against the counter next to her, already feeling the heat from her leg on my chest. I’ve lived with this woman for twenty-four hours, and we’ve only been fully clothed in front of each other once. And that’s only because we had to go out in public.

Only, I’m not fucking this one. This, like the ice cream I’m about to eat for dinner, is new to me.

I dig into the ice cream, pulling up a giant spoonful, then dump it into my mouth.

“Whoa, baby steps, Fox.”

I swallow the mouthful of Phish Food with a smile. “If I’m going to do it, Grimm, I’m going to do it like I do everything else, magnificently.”

Winter rolls her eyes and giggles, making me worry my body heat will melt the ice cream.

“Remind you of your childhood?” she asks.

The mention of my childhood was like a bucket of ice water on the Winter induced warmth I felt seconds ago. “Not mine.”

“You weren’t allowed to have ice cream?” Her head tilts slightly, studying me. I know that look; she’s trying to figure out why I am the way I am.

“Not until after I was ten…”

She swallows, licking the spoon clean afterward. “What happened before you were ten?”

“Stop trying to figure me out, Grimm.” A wave of something I don’t recognize swarms inside me. This hollow, sinking feeling in my chest telling me whatever I went through, whatever happened to me before I was ten is too dark for Winter Sommers, the girl with two seasons for a name. The girl whose eyes show signs of being able to cure even the darkest of moods.

I casually fasten my unaffected, shallow mask, and dig my spoon in for another bite.

“I’m not. I’m just… Well, I’m trying to make an effort. Maybe if we knew each other more, we’d—”

“What? Become friends?” I laugh sardonically. “I have enough friends, Grimm. And since you won’t let me fuck you, I really have no reason to get close to you.”

“Wow.” She pulls her face back, narrowing her eyes on mine. “You truly are just an asshole in an expensive suit.”

“That’s a very accurate observation. I’m not trying to hurt your delicate feelings, I just don’t like being prodded.”

“I was simply trying to get to know you. That’s all. I felt bad for mentioning your parents earlier. It obviously struck a nerve, and I agree it was below the belt since, you’re right, I don’t know dick about your parents. Or you.”

She uncrosses her legs, letting them dangle off the edge of the counter. It takes everything I have not to reach out and slide my hands between them to her growing heat. Even more so now that I’ve made her angry.