Sophia's hand froze on the closet handle. "Of course I know."
She knew Ethan meant his age—Jackson had mentioned it during New Year's. Not that Ethan ever brought it up himself. But honestly, she couldn't care less about the number.
"What else do you know? That I'm bankrolling you?"
Ignoring him, Sophia kept folding clothes from the closet, stacking them with military precision on the bed.
"I know everything about you!" she shot back, chin lifted in challenge.
"Do tell." Ethan snapped his book shut, pinning her with that unnerving stare.
"I—I bought you underwear. You'll get them later." Her cheeks burned, but she squared her shoulders with all the false confidence of a kitten trying to roar. What she really meant was: You matter to me.
Ever since seeing him in yesterday's snowfall,
