Page 72 of Mortgage of Convenience

“Beautiful.”

She wraps her hands around my wrists.

“You’re one to talk. It’s unfair how gorgeous you are. Sometimes, I’d have to leave the room you were in because Aiden always noticed me staring.”

That explains a lot.

“I just thought you didn’t want to hang with a creepy old man.”

She laughs, then groans. “I could never build up the courage to talk to you, no matter how much I wanted to. Why do you think it was so hard to ask for your help? I figured who better to teach me than the guy I’ve admired for ten years?”

The information slams into me, rewriting my DNA. Ican only hope to achieve the greatness Bee sees in me, and it hurts that she can’t shine that same light on herself.

She leans forward, resting her head against my chest. “I just want to be brave already. Why is it still so hard?”

She’s scared, I can see that. It’s fear of what people will say about her, of criticism, of failure. If she hides, then it’s easier to move past the failure. She has confidence. The only thing she can’t do is cheer herself on. If I can be her cheerleader, I will. Gladly.

“It won’t happen overnight. Trust me. I still deal with judgment. You don’t think I’ve seen how women react when they find out I’m bi? Or their relief when they discover I’m more interested in dating women over men? There’s still a stigma surrounding choosing a side, and that’s not limited to straight people. Despite the attraction I feel, I still question myself, because how sure can I be of my sexuality when I’m constantly being told I’m not queer enough?”

“That’s such reductive bullshit.”

Well, shit. Put Bee swearing on my list of turn-ons.

“You’re not wrong.” I slide my hands down her thighs and caress the delicate skin behind her knees. “I don’t think I’ve heard you swear this much before.” Before she has the chance to, I add, “Don’t you dare apologize for it.”

She snaps her mouth shut, caught, a pink tinge gracing her cheeks.

“It’s sexy,” I say, just to see her shiver.

“I wonder what else makes you swear like that.”

The pink flares, spreading down her neck as she breaks contact, looking away.

21

BEE

Little known fact:honeybees fly in figure eights when they communicate. Their waggles become more dramatic when in proximity to their goal, and honestly? I can relate. The buzzing restlessness I’ve felt since I touched ground back in Elmsford is reaching a fever pitch. It’s the energetic equivalent of a conversation volley—the kind I get from the best interviews.

I get a little hit every time I get out of my own way, or, as Sebastian puts it, “just Bee,” because he thinks he’s funny.

He’s certainlysomething.

From a safe distance, I watch as Cassie checks on her hive, wearing full beekeeping gear.

“What made you want to start making honey?” I ask.

She’s reverent as she lifts each frame, then returns it. “I grew up on a farm with all kinds of animals. Pigs, chickens, a peacock. It was a menagerie. When our closest neighbor moved back to the city, my pops found anabandoned swarm on the property and brought it home. He was always doing that, collecting strays. He could not see something in need and not help.”

“He’s a good man.”

I can’t see her smile through the suit, but I’ve interviewed enough people to recognize the sadness in her voice. “He was the best.”

“Did he teach you how to manage the hive?”

“Sure did.”

As she shows me more of the beehive, I try to calm the flare of affection raging in my chest. Can a person have friend crushes? Because I’m absolutely having one. Cassie is relaxed, funny, and opinionated in a way that isn’t judgmental in the least. She cares greatly about the environment and trains in MMA (“Casually. I haven’t entered a bout in years”), which might make her the second coolest person I know.

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