Chapter 63 You Cold?
Andrew crossed the threshold. The door closed behind him with a soft, expensive thud. He stopped two steps inside, head tilting as he took it in— open-plan living space, floor-to-ceiling glass walls framing the glittering campus below, cream furniture, abstract art on the walls, a faint scent of vanilla and bergamot from a diffuser on the side table.
“Wow.” He let the word out on a slow breath, eyes sweeping the room. “Didn’t know I was talking to a rich girl. You must be crazy rich.”
Maggie smiled— soft, almost shy, a faint flush touching her cheeks as she closed the door and turned the lock. “Hope that doesn’t change anything?”
“No— no.” Andrew shook his head quickly, following her toward the living room. “In fact… it makes me more interested in you.”
Maggie laughed— quiet, surprised. “Well, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I hope you’re not here for the money, because I’ll hate to disappoint you— all of it’s my dad’s.”
Andrew’s brows lifted. “Crazy. Your dad must be into real estate or something.”
Maggie rolled her eyes— playful, but with a slight edge. “Something like that.” She gestured toward the long, plush sectional that faced the TV. “You can have a seat.”
“Thank you.” Andrew sank onto the cushions— soft, deep— leaning back slightly, legs stretched out. “Seriously, this place is unreal.”
Maggie settled beside him— close enough that their knees almost brushed, far enough to keep things easy. “Do you want anything? Soft drink, water…?”
“Water’s fine.” Andrew met her gaze— steady, warm.
“Cold?”
“Yes, please.”
“Alright. I’ll be back.” Maggie rose, walked to the kitchen— bare feet silent on the hardwood.
Andrew watched her go— back straight, sweater slipping off one shoulder again— then turned his head toward the TV. Camels trudged across golden dunes, narrator explaining how their humps stored fat, not water. He smiled— small, private.
Maggie opened the built-in fridge— cool light spilling across her face— grabbed a chilled bottle of water, twisted the cap, and walked back. She set it on the tempered-glass side table in front of him.
“Here.”
“Thanks.” Andrew reached for it immediately— cracked the cap, took a long swallow, set it back down with a soft clink.
Maggie settled beside him again— this time a little closer. Their knees brushed. Neither moved away.
Andrew gestured around the room— open space, high ceilings, city lights glittering beyond the glass. “This place is really nice. No, seriously— is your dad really into real estate?”
Maggie raised one brow—half-amused, half-wary. “Why are you so interested? Are you here to see me or get with my dad?”
Andrew’s eyes widened— caught. “Oh— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy. Forget about it.”
Maggie’s expression softened instantly. She touched his forearm—light, brief. “It’s fine. I’m the one who’s sorry. You did nothing wrong. I just… don’t see eye to eye with my dad. I get pretty angry when people mention him. You didn’t know that. I’m sorry I snapped.”
Andrew turned fully toward her— gaze steady, gentle. “It’s fine.”
For a moment neither spoke. Their eyes locked— his warm brown, hers dark and searching. Maggie’s breath caught; her heart gave a quick, hard thud. She looked away first— toward the TV— cheeks warming.
Andrew followed her gaze. The narrator was explaining how camels could lose 25 percent of their body weight in water and still function. Andrew tilted his head.
“I take it you love the desert?”
Maggie blinked— confused for half a second— then laughed softly. “The desert?”
Andrew gestured at the screen— camels plodding across dunes.
“Oh.” Maggie readjusted on the couch, tucking one leg under her. “I love watching wildlife documentaries. Doesn’t matter what animal. Just… the way they survive. Adapt.”
Andrew nodded— slow, thoughtful. “That makes sense.”
They watched together— quiet at first. The narrator shifted to camel milk production; Maggie’s shoulder brushed Andrew’s as she leaned forward to grab the remote and lower the volume.
Andrew glanced sideways. “Never thought I’d find an animal documentary this fascinating.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Andrew said with a small shrug. “Maybe it’s just because I never took the time to watch one before.”
“Would you like us to switch to something else? Sports, maybe?”
“No, no. I’m invested now.” Andrew shook his head lightly.
Maggie smiled— small, almost shy. “They’re always fun to watch. They remind me how beautiful the world really is.”
Andrew nodded, his gaze drifting back to the screen. “I agree.”
A comfortable silence settled— only the low murmur of the documentary and the distant hum of the city below.
Maggie shifted closer— barely noticeable. Their thighs touched now. Andrew didn’t move away. Neither did she.
The temperature in the room had dropped— October night pressing against the glass. Maggie reached for the throw blanket draped over the back of the couch— soft grey cashmere— pulled it across both their laps.
Andrew raised a brow— playful. “You cold?”