Page 83 of The Snowflake Effect

He peels off, full of adventure and excitement.

“I wish I had his imagination,” Shay says, grinning. She watches him inspect each and every beach rock he finds. “What age do you think we lose that? You know, the ability to stay occupied for hours with nothing but our minds to invent stories?”

I lean into her ear. “Pretty sure I’m still capable of that. You have no idea the stories I invented after Aspen.”

She turns her face toward mine and licks her lips. “Did they star a certain scrap of red lace you couldn’t part with, dirty boy?”

“So fucking dirty for you.” I nip her ear, pleased with how her cheeks pink, then I lean back on my hands. “When you were a kid, what seemed like the coolest part of being an adult to you?”

“Easy,” she says. “No curfew. Late nights. You?”

“Driving, for sure. Like a real, live video game.”

“Minus the killing and blowing up of things,” she teases.

“No, no. I thought that was part of driving.”

She snorts. “Of course you did.”

“Beach house,” I say, fanning my hand toward the expansive sand dotted with lounging people, dogs, and frisbee players. “If you built a beach house here, how would you decorate it?”

Ever since Shay told me she plays games in her head, redecorating spaces, I can’t help but prod her. I love seeing inside her clever mind.

She tilts her head. “Natural materials, for sure. And I love whitewashed wooden walls—classic and clean—but I’d paint the ceiling a bold color to pop. Pink or something fun. Add a patterned tile floor to bring in that color, too.”

I close my eyes and nod. “I can picture that.”

Seagulls squawk. The water laps gently at the shore. Jackson dumps another few rocks by our feet, and Shay scoots closer to my side. She leans into me, rests her head on my shoulder, and that hot-flush-clammy-heart-racing thing returns. Like I’m sitting in my sauna with my hands dunked in an ice bath.

I frown and kiss the top of her head, breathe through the uncomfortable sensations.

We talk less. Intermittent questions asked and answered as I try to absorb the moment and just be for a change. Ignore these odd spells. I mean, this is the type of ease I’ve been searching for: companionship and mind-blowing chemistry.

With Shay, it’s as though we’ve known each other for years, not months. With Shay, I can see a future filled with love and laughter and family time.

Maybe that’s the source of my discomfort. Anxiety that we won’t find a way to make this work long term. Not that I haven’t been working on a solution. As planned, I’ve researched every design firm in the Vancouver area, listing them by size, prestige, and style.

Once I’ve spoken to them all, narrowed the field down to the best of the best, I’ll lay out my findings in a neat package. Let Shay know exactly what she stands to gain by moving, personally and professionally. Convince her to stay and squash these weird episodes.

She pokes my ribs and gives me an odd look.

I blink, realizing I missed whatever she said. “Sorry. What was that?”

“It’s getting late. Did you want to get going?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll grab Jackson.”

I move to get up, but she places her hand on my arm. “This was nice, being out today.”

“So nice,” I agree, but that clamminess is still there, edging out my happiness. I run my nose through her hair, breathe in her scent, and swallow my unease. “Today was perfect,” I say with more certainty.

CHAPTER 36

SHAY

I blink, slowly waking up in my absolute favorite way: surrounded by Kolton. I tighten my arm around his warm waist and slide my leg over his. He sighs like a satisfied cat.

“Morning,” he murmurs and brushes a curl from my face.