Page 8 of Kiss Me

That’s the exact moment when the lift jolts to a stop, freezing us in mid-air.

I don’t even try to stifle my smile.

“What was that?”

She tries to look over her shoulder.

“Looks like we’re stuck.”

“What?”

I repeat myself.

“How can we be stuck?” She twists and turns as if trying to see from this height and angle what the problem is.

“Don’t tell me the famous Tania Casey is afraid of heights?” I taunt before shaking my head in disbelief. “No, not the woman who gets crazy air and landed a perfect backside 1980 in last year’s Games.”

She turns to me with a frown.

Stupidly, my attention lingers on those perfect lips of hers.

“Do you think this is funny?”

I meet her eyes. At least, I try to, but those damn sunglasses over her face obscure my view.

“Am I laughing?” I question with a smirk on my face.

“I think you are.”

I shrug. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Her lips push out into a pout of confusion.

“Why are you lying to your fans?”

She sucks her teeth and makes a disgusted sound from the back of her throat before folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How about we just don’t say anything to one another until this ski lift lands? Then we can go our separate ways.”

That’s what she thinks. She rejected me the first time.

I’m not about to let her get away a second time.

No one says no to me.

I always get what I want.

“That’s going to be uncomfortable for you,” I tell her.

She turns her head my way so fast that a few of her long braids whip across her face. I don’t even recognize what I’m doing as my hand reaches out, taking one of the braids in my hand.

This one is sky blue. Most of the braids are a mix between black and blue. I play with the lock in my hands while Tania finally lifts her goggles, revealing her narrowed gaze on me.

Her eyes are a perfect shade of the gingerbread cookies I noticed her eating during lunch.

It’s at this moment, I decide I like having her attention on me. Glaring or otherwise.

“Why would it be uncomfortable for me?” she asks, her usually melodious tone hardened with her mounting frustration.

“Because I would hate to be the one to tell everyone how the famous Tania Casey is lying to the world about having an injury. I don’t think that will go over too well with your sponsors, do you?”

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