Page 215 of Burn Bright

She snaps a glare at him, then comes forward with a finger raised. “I’m not a hugger, but I will make an exception this once. Do not judge me on the quality of this hug.”

That blunt honesty eases my nerves. “No judgment here,” I say as she comes in for a hug…but it’s more like a light tap on my shoulders. She wasn’t fucking lying. The fact that she wanted to hug me though—that means something, right?

I’m about to turn to Ben, but Rose tells me, “I’m stealing you away for a little bit. Follow.” She gestures a finger toward herself, and I leave Ben’s side like his mom has put a fucking spell on me. Maybe she really is Maleficent.

Rose takes me to a private courtyard attached to Loxley Hall. Iron bistro chairs and round tables scatter the cobblestone, and she chooses one beside a heat lamp.

We sit. “This fucking wind,” she growls, swatting her lush, glossy brown hair out of her face and crossing her legs. “We should have made the boys come out here.” She eyes me. “What do you think? Switch places?”

She’s askingmyopinion? “I’m okay.” I stuff my hands in my leather jacket. “The heater is nice.”

Rose pulls out a black winter beanie from the purse she places on the table. “Here, put this on at least. Your ears are getting pink.”

I accept the hat, grateful because my ears do burn from the wind. As I wedge it over my head, I ask, “Aren’t your ears cold?”

She leans farther back, the hem of her peacoat nearly skimming the stone patio. “Me?No. I’ve embraced the cold. It’s the monstrous gusts of wind determined to mess up my hair that I take issue with.” She only leans forward when a twentysomething, fashionable girl—sporting a plaid peacoat and turtleneck dress—appears with two coffees. “Allegra Piscitelli, my personal assistant,” Rose introduces us. “Allegra, this is Harriet Fisher, my youngest son’s girlfriend.”

I remove a hand from the warmth to raise it in greeting.

“Nice to meet you,” Allegra says. “This is for you.” She hands me the coffee cup. “Black drip, one espresso shot, no milk, no sugar.”

“Yeah…? How do you know my usual order?”

“I asked Ben,” Rose answers into her sip. “Thank you.” Her sharp perfunctorythank yousends Allegra away. Her assistant seems happy to escape into the warm indoors. “Don’t be nervous.”

I expel a tight breath. “Am I that obvious?”

“You keep hugging yourself like you’re afraid your bowels are going to spill onto the floor.”

“What an image,” I say flatly. “Maybe I’m just cold.”

“Scoot closer.” She waves me toward the metal heater, then fiddles with the knob, raising the temperature for me.

Is it weird that I think I already love her?

My eyes burn. How is that possible—that in two seconds, I already wish she were my mom? When it’s taken me years to convince myself to have even a morsel of affection toward the woman who birthed me?

Sitting back in the iron chair, Rose pushes hair off her shoulder, then picks up her coffee. “When I first met Connor’s mother, I threw wine on her blouse, so just know you can’t make a more hostile first impression than me. Unless you throw the coffee. Which I considered getting on ice just in case karmic justice came back to bite me today.”

“Chances of coffee-throwing are very low,” I assure her.

Her lip quirks, then she scans me. “You’re the first girl Ben has ever introduced us to. He wouldn’t even let us meet his Prom date.”

I didn’t know that.

“We’ve gotten really close. He means a lot to me. He’s…” How do you even describe someone who’s become your best friend, the person you ache to share every aspect of your life with because their mere presence just fills your soul? “There is no one like Ben. You raised anincredibleperson with a heart I feel fortunate to know, and if anyone hurts him, I’d probably go to jail for stabbing them in the eye.”

“I’ll be right behind you for stabbing the other one.”

I laugh.

She smiles into her sip of coffee, staining the rim with dark rouge lipstick. “I’mverynew at this whole meeting one of my son’s partners, so forgive me if I sound too blunt. But he’s treating you well? Because I will drag him to the center of a burning volcano—by his earlobe—if I hear he’s being anything other than chivalrous.” Her eyes flame like she means it.

I didn’t expect her to want to protectme.My throat tries to swell closed. “No, Ben is such a gentleman. He’s honest. Caring. The best, really.” I add fast, “And I don’t know if you’ve been afraid of it—but I’m not with him because he’s a Cobalt. Like, honestly, I couldn’t care less that you all are famous, no offense. He could live in a tent out by a creek, and I’d be stupidly giddy if he invited me inside.”

She grimaces at the wordtent.“Do you like the outdoors?”

“Uh, no.” I shake my head hard. “No, I foresee myself in the city…” I trail off, grateful for the coffee to drink away the pause.