Page 80 of Juniper Bean Resorts to Murder

“Oh,” she says, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Duh. Of course. That’s a good point.” Then she turns her gaze back to her shoes.

I take pity on her just when it looks like she’s about to give up. She huffs a sigh that sends her pink hair flying out of her face, and her shoulders sag.

“Here,” I say then, turning around so that my back is to her. I reach around and pat myself awkwardly between my shoulder blades. “Hop on.”

“Are you sure?” she says after a second’s hesitation.

“Yeah,” I say, speaking over my shoulder to her. “It’s fine. It’s not far, is it?”

“No,” she says with a little shrug. “Okay. Thanks.”

I’m about to crouch down so she can reach better, but she leaps before I get the chance; her arms band around my neck, and instinctively I reach back to grab her legs as they wrap around me.

“That’s my butt—”

“Yep. Sorry.” I adjust my grip and ignore the flush of heat rushing to my cheeks. And then we’re off again, her pointing the way and leading me like I’m her faithful steed.

And it’s strange that simple body heat should be so intoxicating. But then, I suppose, humanity is the creature that clawed its way through the ranks of evolution and stole its crown with the creation of fire. Our higher brains have been propelling us toward warmth literally since the dawn of time.

No fire I’ve ever sat next to has felt the way she feels, her citrus-scented hair a slash of pink in my periphery, her breath on my skin as she directs my path.

You don’t like her romantically, huh?a little voice in my head says.

I drop kick that little voice clear out of my mind.

We reach Nora’s plot only a minute or two later, and Juniper slides down the back of my body, taking all her body heat with her. I fold my arms across my chest to ward off the chill she leaves behind, watching as she approaches her mother’s grave.

“Hi,” she says to the small headstone. “I brought a friend. You want to meet him?” She turns and points at me, and I step closer, feeling unaccountably nervous.

I’ve never met a woman’s mom before.

“This is Aiden,” she says, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me closer once I enter her range of motion. I stumble into her, and she wobbles dangerously in her heels for a second. Her arms windmill and flail until I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her tight against me.

“Oof,” she says, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Thanks. Almost ate it there.” Then she turns back to her mom. “This is Aiden,” she repeats. She pats me on the chest. “He thinks I’m a good roommate, and he promised he won’t let me go hungry.”

I shift uncomfortably, my grip around her waist tightening, the silk of her top smooth beneath my fingertips.

Why is it that calling her a roommatesoundsright butfeelswrong?

And why does calling her more than a roommate soundwrongbut feelright?

“You’re hurting me,” she says, snapping me out my thoughts. She taps my hand. “Too tight.”

“Sorry,” I say quickly, letting go of her as though I’ve been shocked. I back away a couple steps. “Sorry.”

She smiles. “It’s fine.” Then she crouches down so that she’s eye level with Nora’s headstone, and that smile fades. It falls away from her eyes first, then her lips, until what’s left in its place is something like concern. “Did you lie to me?” she says.

I blink. “What?”

“Not you,” she says. She jerks her chin at the headstone. “Her.” She swivels her head up to look at me. “That’s what Tonya said, wasn’t it? That parents lie to their children if they think it’s for their own good?”

I nod slowly. “Yes,” I say. Then I shove my hands in my jacket pockets to protect them from the biting wind. “Something like that.”

“That’s what I thought.” She turns back to her mother now. “When she said that, I got the strangest feeling. The hair stood up on my body. And it made me wonder…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t need to. It’s clear what she’s wondering.

Did her mother lie to Juniper in order to protect her? And if so, what would she have lied about? Juniper’s dad?

After a few more seconds of staring at the headstone, Juniper sighs. Then, in an awkward manipulation of arms and legs and shifting weight, she seats herself on the ground, leaning back against Nora. She looks unbearably tired all of a sudden, like she could close her eyes right there and be asleep in moments. I’m entirely unsurprised when her lids drift shut, her lashes fanning over her pale skin.

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