Page 48 of Ice Me Baby

I jerk my gaze back to the sky when I feel another hand caress the bare skin on my calf. My cheeks heat, but I don’t look down because I know it’s Dean. They are doing this because no one will be looking at them. All eyes will be on the sky, which gives them free rein to look at me.

I suppose this means they won the bet. But I can’t say I’m upset with losing. I’ve never looked forward to a kiss, but withthem? It seems my heart won’t stop beating in anticipation for this night to end. I won’t admit I’m hungering for a kiss with the two of them. Not out loud anyway.

Chapter Nineteen

Afew weeks have passed since the Fourth of July party. Mac and Dean did call in their prize, but certainly didn’t do it at the same time. Mac didn’t wait long just a few days later and we’re in his room as he slowly kisses me. Not going to lie, I whined a little when he pulled away, and he only smirked as he backed away and out of the room. Dean had waited a week to press me against the wall and ravage me with a single kiss. We had found ourselves alone at the house and it’d only taken him moments to press his body to mine. Where Mac’s kiss had been sweet and sensual, Dean’s was dark and hungry.

I wanted more kisses. But that would mean admitting I wanted more in this odd thing between us, and I couldn’t do that just yet.I’d expected it to be awkward, but Dean’s been more talkative lately, and Mac has upped his flirting game. The guys have been trying to help me search for an apartment, and I finally found one. They even helped me move, and I’ve found the best way to do it.

They love home cooked meals, and they told me they haven’t had homemade fried chicken with mashed potatoes. So, sincetoday is my day off, I’ve managed to gather all the ingredients to make it.

Spotify is playing on shuffle, though most are country songs. The boys have me on a country music listening spree. The next song that pops on is Yeah Boy by Kelsea Ballerini.I smirk and sway my hips to the beat.

I’m in the middle of whisking the gravy and flipping the chicken while singing along when I hear Dean’s voice behind me, and I let out a loud squeal. “Whatcha cooking there, Liz?”

In a flurry of gravy and hair, I spin around, and the tongs go flying out of my hand. Dean yells, “Oh shit!” but he ducks fast enough that the tongs hit Vicy in the chest.

“Ouch!” he yelps and rubs his chest.

“You scared the shit out of me!” I screech. Then I throw the gravy-covered whisk at Dean, who ducks again, which means Vicy gets hit by the whisk as well.

He throws his hands up in defeat. “What did I do?”

Dean looks over his shoulder and chuckles. “Bad reflexes.”

“How was I supposed to know she was going to start throwing things? I’m not the one who scared her!” Vicy whines.

Turning off the heat for the gravy and grabbing a new pair of tongs, I pull out the chicken. Once done, I take my handmade cookies from the oven that has been keeping them warm. With a chocolate-chip cookie in hand, I turn and ask Vicy, “Will a cookie make it better?”

His eyes fill with excitement as he bounces over to the kitchen. “Yes!” He grins as he takes the cookie and immediately takes a bite. He groans and mumbles, “This is so good.”

Dean goes to grab one, and I swat his hand. “You scared me; you don’t deserve cookies.”

He pouts and asks, “What can I do to get one of those cookies?”

I ponder the question for a moment before giving him a mischievous grin. “You have to come to my ice-skating class and participate for a month.”

His eyes widen, then narrow. “Seriously? For a cookie?”

I chuckle as I wave the smell of the warm cookies toward him. “For a cookie and an apology for scaring me. You could have ruined dinner.”

He huffs as he holds out a hand. “Fine. Can I have a cookie?”

Instead of handing him one, I put my hand in his and give it a shake. “You shook on it.”

“This seems like a deal made under duress,” he grumbles.

With a chuckle I replace my hand with a warm cookie. “Let me know if it’s worth it.”

He stares at me with narrowed eyes as he takes a bite. It only takes seconds before his eyes flutter closed, and he hums in satisfaction. I smirk as he opens his eyes and narrows them on me again.

With a knowing look, I ask, “So?”

“I plead the fifth,” he mumbles through another bite.

Laughing, I wave the guys out of the kitchen. “Out. Out, so I can finish making dinner.”

Vicy plants a kiss on my cheek as he steals another cookie before running off. “Thanks, Roe Roe!”

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