Page 96 of Heart of Thorns

I snort. “I don’t mean completely. The sports bra and your panties can stay.”

Because I don’t want to know what I would do if someone walked in and got an eyeful of her tits. I’d probably lose my mind…

My chest tightens. I’ve been avoiding my own thoughts regarding our relationship. Mainly, that it’s all pretend. Except it’s starting to not feel quite so fake, and that terrifies me.

I wasn’t lying to her the other night. I haven’t done this before. Haven’t held on to a steady girlfriend, haven’t cared about anyone more than football to give them the time of day. No sleepovers, no public displays of affection, no repeated dates.

Anyway. Now isnotthe time to start thinking about such things.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you,” she says in a low voice.

“Tell me when you’re in the ice bath.” I point to the tub.

She frowns, but she does as she’s told. She steps up to the edge and lifts her good leg, gripping the edge to keep her balance. She slowly lowers it into the ice water and sucks in a sharp breath.

“Yep, I know how that feels,” I say. “Keep pushing.”

She says something under her breath and lifts her other leg in. The water barely touches her knees.

“Now sit.”

“Fucking hell.” She white-knuckles the lip of the tub and drops down inch by inch.

That just makes it worse, really.

Finally, the water rushes over her hips, then her abdomen, and she gets all the way into a seated position. She’s barely breathing, her chest not rising or falling as usual. And she’s so fucking tense…

I cock my head and count backward from ten, anticipating her cop-out.

And sure enough, she hauls herself up almost immediately.

“O-o-okay.” Her teeth chatter. “That was fun.”

I shake my head. “That was not good enough, grumpy cat.”

She scowls and doesn’t move.

“You really are like a cat. Afraid to get wet.” I shed my shirt and shove my sweatpants down, revealing my boxer briefs. I set a timer for three minutes on my phone and step in behind her.

“W-what are you doing?”

I ignore the feel of the water and focus on her, running my hands down her arms. “Helping. Obviously.”

She exhales.

“Now we sit.” I lower myself and spread my legs, leaving a space for her. The coldness leaves a familiar tightness in my lungs, a steal-your-breath iciness that I force myself to relax into.

She looks at me, then slowly comes back down. She settles between my legs and leans against my chest.

I immediately wrap my arms around her waist, holding her hostage. Her skin feels hot, even with ice cubes bumping into us.

“Breathe,” I say in her ear. “Focus on relaxing every individual muscle.”

“Y-you do this on the r-r-regular?”

“After practices a few times a week.” I nip her ear. “Relax.”

My hand slides lower, down her abdomen, and slips under the waistband of her panties. Her breathing comes faster when I stroke her clit.

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