Snow On The Beach // R.C.

1.13

"Do you want this?" Rafe asks me.

Yes. No. I think so? All of these answers must show on my face, because he slowly pushes himself off the floor and sits on the edge of the coffee table.

"I'm sorry," I say, scrambling to pull my knees into my chest.

"Get your shoes off my furniture."

I drop my feet back to the floor.

Rafe runs his hands over his head with a sigh. "Trust me, Pauper, there's plenty I want to hear you apologize to me for but this isn't one of them."

"What happened to Princess?" I scoff, trying to mask how heavily I'm still breathing.

"You should probably go back to your room. My family is out to dinner, but they'll be home any minute." He stands, ignoring my question as he walks towards the door. A hand mindlessly scratches the back of his neck. A hand that was just driving me crazy a mere moment ago.

"That's it?" I shoot up from my seat, tentatively following him. "We aren't going to talk about what any of this means?"

Halting so suddenly that I almost trip right into him, Rafe slowly turns around. "What do you want it to mean?"

If I've learned anything, it's never to trust my impressions of Rafe. He's too flighty, too emotional. Everything about him can change at the drop of a hat. But if I didn't know any better, I would say that he looks damn near hopeful right now. Did my uncertainty about what he was about to do...when he was on his knees— Did it really affect him this much?

No, I doubt it. I'm probably just imagining things.

"I don't know what I want it to mean," I admit. "Maybe it doesn't have to mean anything."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Complete and utter silence befalls us for what must be the first time ever. For once, he doesn't seem to have any insults to throw at me, and I don't have any long-winded quips. I begin rocking back and forth on my heels, fighting the urge to touch my still tingling lips. Rafe doesn't seem to care, because he runs his fingers along his, a gold ring on his index finger catching the light. I've never noticed it before.

"Where'd you get that ring?" I ask.

He freezes, looking between me and the jewelry. "That's what you're asking me about?"

"No..." I run a hand through my hair, staring off at the floor. "I should probably get home."

My fingers wrap around the door handle, twisting, before he blurts: "Home? You're going back to stay with your brother?"

I turn to find Rafe's brows deeply furrowed. "Yeah. Technically that's my home. I'm staying here— But not anymore."

"Is this because of what you overheard my dad saying yesterday?"

Biting my lip, I look down. I don't understand why I'm being so shy right now. I ought to slap myself. Instead, I just force myself to make eye contact with him, rolling my shoulders back. "I'm not staying somewhere where I'm viewed as a joke. It's fine. I can make the ride to and from here for the internship every morning and night. But—well...once you fix my bike, that is."

"It's already fixed. I put new tires on it this morning after you left."

"Oh. Thank—" I stop myself, remembering he doesn't like the words 'thank you.' "It's about time."

I don't wait for a response as I open the door. And I actually think that's it. We're done. I'm glad for it, because the ride home will give me plenty of time to assess what just happened between us: that kiss and what it almost became. Just thinking about it makes me feel like a stranger in my own body, but...in a good way? God, I don't know. But just as I reach my room to pack my things—