Page 43 of Broken Ice, Mended Hearts

“No. I’ve told you that.”

His eyes still looked troubled. “That’s why what happened made me so sad. There was a time I’d have gone to her place without a thought.”

My heart plummeted, and for a wild second, I considered running to the door and asking him to leave. Instead, I sighed. “We’re both in unfamiliar territory, so it’s normal to feel a little lost. But we need to be honest, even if it’s uncomfortable. We’ll figure this out.”

He placed a hand on top of mine. “Maybe we should stick together for a while, keep each other out of harm’s way.”

Say no. You already wisely decided to put space between you.I opened my mouth, and to my great surprise, said, “If you think that’s best.”

His expression was a mask of gratitude and trepidation, and for a moment, the weight of uncertainty lifted. We might not have all the answers, but in that shared fragility, our mysterious connection had deepened and bridged the gap between us.

He smiled for the first time since arriving. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he seemed happier than he had been. “Can I ask a favor?”

I nodded.

“I don’t feel like being alone. Okay if I stay here tonight?”

“Of course. You know that.”

We’d spent many nights under the same roof, so I wasn’t sure why he felt like he needed my permission to stay.

Puffing out his cheeks, he looked into my eyes. “Could we sleep together? I don’t mean sex, but I feel… troubled. I think I’ll do better if you hold me.”

In thirty-three years of living, I’d rarely been so confused. Pip and I had never slept in the same bed all night. After we pleased each other in every imaginable way besides fucking—something else we’d never done—he always had a reason for moving to my guest room or sending me to his.

He must have been afraid I was about to say no, because his eyes teared up. “Please, Sven?”

I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. Despite the difficult evening and my bewilderment over the evolving dynamics between us, I needed to hold him as much as he wanted to be held. I hoped I wasn’t about to make a terrible mistake. “Let’s go to bed.”

Chapter 12

Gags

Sunlight bled through the blinds,painting stripes across Sven’s face. I snuggled against him, and as I tugged the comforter to my chin, a knot of anxiety formed in my belly. Today was the day I’d own up to the truth.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Sven tightened his hold, and his hard cock brushed against my hip, sending a frisson of desire racing through me. Was it wrong to want to stay in his bed and pretend things didn’t exist outside our bubble? Probably not wrong, but certainly unrealistic. Whatever we decided today, we’d need to deal with it in the real world.

I breathed in Sven’s musky scent and tried to ignore memories of last night. The illusion I’d built so carefully had crumbled, and my meticulously crafted “friendship” with Sven, fortified to shield me from my own feelings, had been revealed for the sham it was. I’d never felt stripped so bare.

If I confessed everything, would he push me away or help me navigate the confusion swirling around in my mind? I hopedhe’d welcome what I had to say; I didn’t doubt he liked me, but his reaction after I arrived last night had me worried.

Settling against him again, I hoped sleep would take me away. When it didn’t, I said his name, and his eyes fluttered open, glimmering in the morning light. “Hi,” I whispered.

He curved his lips into a lazy smile, and my visceral reaction made worry coil in my chest. How could something that made me feel so good also fill me with anxiety? It made no sense, which demonstrated how much I needed to figure out my life so I could be happy.

He cleared his throat. “Feel better this morning?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I was such a drag last night. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“No worries. You’d do the same for me.”

I turned on my side to look at him. “Yes, I would.”

He shifted his hips away, and I angled my head to give him a kiss. After little more than a brush of lips, he pulled back and said, “Let’s get some caffeine.”

After the coffee brewed, we took mugs to the living room and settled near the windows. We sat at opposite ends of the sofa, and I worked my lips into a smile, which he returned with one that showed off his plump lower lip to maximum advantage. We locked eyes, but just as I was getting lost in his, he broke the gaze to sip his coffee. It was time for me to confess, but while I tried to come up with the words, he asked, “Why did you come here last night?”

My breath caught. Had I done something wrong? Was he angry with me, or had I overstepped a boundary? Without an easy answer to his question, I gulped coffee and thought fast. “You’re my friend, and I was fucked up. Shouldn’t I have come?”

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