Page 41 of Snow Storm

Harley’s ears heated. “I…”

“He has a nice place, doesn’t he?” Aminah said, her smirk turning into a smile.

Covering his face, Harley righted himself and made sure his boots had traction. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mhm.”

“But say we were talking about…someone,” Harley said, “who asked me to, um…to stay with him…”

“If you’re asking if I think he’s worth it?—”

“No,” he blurted, then slapped his forehand. “I mean, yes. I know he’s worth it. God, why am I only capable of making sense when I’m writing?”

She laughed and came around the desk, leaning her hip against it. “Let’s start over. Say we were talking about a certain someone?” she prompted.

Harley swallowed heavily. “Obviously, I didn’t come here expecting to meet anyone. Kind of the opposite. But hypothetically, say I did—I met a guy who maybe doesn’t ever do much for himself, and now it’s almost Christmas, and I don’t exactly have a place I can shop…would you happen to know what he might, uh. You know? Like?”

“Besides—” She gestured at his crotch, and he fought the urge to hide himself like he was naked. Aminah laughed. “Claude does a lot for other people without thinking about himself. And he’s not exactly forthcoming about what he likes. Lyric’s making him her mom’s famous cinnamon cake that she makes him every year. He loves it. His cousin will probably bring him back something from his trip to Ireland. And Daniel…” She sighed and shrugged. “He usually gives him a really nice massage, but obviously, that’s not going to happen this year.”

It wasn’t, but it was giving him an idea. “If I raided the spa for some supplies, would you report me for theft?”

Aminah laughed, then walked behind the desk and came back around with a set of keys. “I could so get fired for this, so don’t let me down.”

Harley clutched the keys to his chest. “Do me a favor. We didn’t get around to exchanging numbers. Can you send him a text and tell him that I have to jump on a call with my editor and that I’ll be back in about an hour and a half.”

“For massage supplies?” she asked dubiously.

Harley let out a strained laugh. “And maybe some YouTube videos so I know a little bit about what I’m doing?”

Her eyes widened, and then her whole face went soft. “Youlikehim.”

“Yeah,” Harley said. “I do.” It felt oddly good to admit it aloud, even though it felt a bit like he was damning his heart.

Amina hugged herself around the middle. “He deserves that. He deserves to be liked by someone who’s a good person.”

“You don’t know I’m a good person. You saw what I did,” Harley said quietly.

She met his gaze fiercely. “Yes. I did. And I saw what happened before it. I saw what happened after. I saw what your shitty ex posted online, and I read about your dad. And somehow, you’re here, standing on your own two feet, willing to be kind to a man you don’t know. I don’t know who’s been telling you that you’re not a good person or who made you doubt yourself, but they suck.”

Harley’s throat was thick with emotion. “No one.” She raised a brow at him. “Fine. Maybe the guy you saw posting online who sucks.”

She let out a small laugh. “Don’t define yourself by the opinions of terrible people, Harley. It’s not worth what it does to you. Now, get out of here so I can text my boss and keep him from freaking out that you aren’t coming back.”

Harley nodded, then hurried off to his room to pack his small travel case with his favorite pair of sweats, his fuzziest socks, his emergency anxiety meds because he was probably going to need them at some point, and all of his toiletries.He grabbed a second tote after glancing around and deciding against taking his laptop, and then he let the door swing closed behind him as he made his way down to the spa.

It was pitch-black, and he was afraid to turn on the light, so he used the flashlight on his phone to find the room he’d been in when he thought Claude was Daniel. That was only twenty-four hours ago, but it felt like a lifetime. Never in his life did he think he would be the kind of man who tripped and fell this hard for a total stranger, but here he was.

And he wanted to deny the feeling in his chest—or maybe blame it on holiday blues, or the fact that his ex had left him, or that his dad was dead, and he was alone. But when he pictured Claude’s face in his mind, it wasn’t desperation. Whatever he was feeling, it wasn’t filling some kind of void.

It was soft. It was easy.

It was right.

When you know, you know. He’d heard that a lot over his lifetime, and he’d always called bullshit, but maybe it was only bullshit because he was surrounded by people like Darren. How many people would be saved from rivers of angst and anger and regret if they knew what it could be like when the person was the one they were supposed to meet?

God, he had to figure something out. He couldn’t let this end.

He had time though. They were stuck because of a storm, and even if he hadn’t been locked in, he knew Wes wasn’t in a hurry to bring him back to the real world. He hadn’t checked online, but he knew the chaos wasn’t over yet.

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