Page 91 of Born of Ice

Am I going to lose him?

But I can’t keep him anyway…

God, I’m a mess.

Finally, he sighs and gets up from the bed with a simple “Fine” As he pulls his boxers on.

Fine?Fine?Just like that? What does fine even mean after last night? Why do I care? Fine then, fine. I should be happy he’s taking it so well. Maybe he finally realized I’m not worth it, just like everyone else did.

“Before you drown in your own—very loud—thoughts,” he starts, rounding the bed until he’s by my side and leans over, propping himself over me on his arms. “Fine means fine, I’ll let you pretend this isn’t real between us for a little while longer while I go make you breakfast and then have mine over the kitchen counter.”

And just like that he’s gone. Taking my loud thoughts, scrambling them, and leaving a fucking fire behind.

“You are not eating my pussy!” I yell after him, and he replies with a loud chuckle and his famous, “What are you going to do about it, cripple?”

God, I hate that man.

And I might also love him a little bit.

I purposely stay in bed longer than necessary, then I spend way too much time in the bathroom, looking at the bathtub and remembering all he did for me there as my heartrate spikes and by the time I wheel myself into the kitchen, Exton has the whole table covered with food.

“Jesus, are we expecting visitors?”

“Sex makes me hungry,” Exton states, and I stop in my tracks.

“This is not something I need to know as a friend.” In fact, I need to know as little as possible.

“It’s a good thing you’re not just a friend then.” He keeps plating more and more food.

“Exton.” I sigh with what’s supposed to be frustration but sounds a whole lot more like needy whimper.

“Electra.”

“I’m serious.”

“So, I’ve been thinking.” He completely ignores my comment.

“Well, that sounds promising already.”

“Har har.” He narrows his eyes at me and my mouth tips into a small smile. “So, I’ve been thinking you should teach me how to figure skate.”

“I lied, this is more than promising. This is epic. Why?” He dumps a whole lot of food onto my plate as he digs into his own.

“So, I can help you train later on. I need to know what to do. I looked up some videos and it doesn’t look too hard,” he shrugs, and I burst out laughing.

“Exton, we might both work on ice, but our professions are vastly different. You wouldn’t last even through one hour of figure skating.”

He lifts his head from the plate, his mouth full as he raises his fork at me, “Are you calling me weak?” he mumbles over the food, and I shake my head.

“I’m calling you a gorilla on ice, incapable of finesse.”

Exton’s eye narrow into headstrong determination. I can only imagine this is how he looks on his ice and it’s hot.

God, it’s so hot.

Yeah, we wouldn’t work as a couple because I’d be tempted to rip out every eye in the arena that sees that look on his face.

“All I hear is a challenge.” Exton breaks through my wrong line of thoughts.

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