Page 36 of Slay Ride

“Maybe it’s for the best. You’re here with me, so there’s no chance of you getting embarrassed after you try to maul the poor guy and then get shut down in front of everyone.”

“Listen, I’m getting really sick of everyone telling me I don’t have a chance with Maverick. Wouldn’t he have told me himself if he wasn’t interested? I mean, my signals are pretty obvious.”

Bennett takes a deep breath, then opens and closes his mouth a few times.

“Just say it,” I groan.

“He’s not into you like that, Cat. He’s afraid to tell you because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.” He runs hishands through his hair and looks at the floor like he’s the one who just received heart-crushing news.

I scoff and pretend my soul isn’t disintegrating. “Why doyoulook so sad? It wasn’t as if you were the one pining after someone who’s too nice to tell you off.”

“I just thought it would feel better to burst your bubble. It kind of sucks, if I’m being honest.”

“So the tin man does have a heart,” I whisper to the dying flames.

“Only when I drink,” he says with a laugh as he tips the bottle to his lips again. “Guess I’d better get to chopping some wood, huh?”

He stands and places his hands on his lower back, then leans back to stretch. The alcohol is doing funny things to my emotions too, because the heartache isn’t lingering, and I’m seriously considering what it would be like to lick Bennett’s abs.

I lick my lips and look at the half-empty bottle on the hearth. “Hey, can you let me know when it’s eleven fifty-nine?”

Bennett looks at his watch, then lifts the ax. “It’s eleven fifty-eight, so count to sixtyreallyslow and you should be about there. You can count to sixty, can’t you?”

Rolling my eyes, I drink a bit more and start counting in my head. I need some liquid courage. What I’m about to do might get me killed.

One . . . two . . .

As I count, I watch his muscles tense and relax as he brings the ax down in an arc, over and over. He only misses every few swings, but the way he purses his lips and brings the ax down with more determination on the next swing is kind of sexy.

I don’t even realize I’m biting my lip until it starts to hurt.

Twenty-three . . . twenty-four . . .

A bead of sweat snakes down his forehead and clings to his stubble. The firelight dances within it, reminding me of thehoney in the jar. I reach forward and pull it away from the heat. It’s going to evaporate if I leave it there.

And it’s not the only thing at risk of overheating.

Forty-seven. . .

Is this really a good idea?

Forty-eight. . .

I grip the quilt around my shoulders, stand on shaking legs, and step toward Bennett. He stops chopping and turns to face me as he wipes his forehead with his forearm.

“Get too warm by the fire?” he asks.

I shake my head.Fifty-four. . .

“Well, I can’t keep cutting wood if you’re standing in the way. Can you move?”

Sixty.

I drop the quilt and step into him. Fighting off the shock that he hasn’t bolted in the other direction, I take a deep breath and get on my tiptoes and...I kiss Bennett on the mouth.

For a brief moment in time, we forget our feud. We’re just two people lost in a frigid hell, clinging to each other for a New Year’s kiss.

But then Bennett remembers who I am, and his hands go to my hips. He shoves me away and wipes his mouth. “What the fuck are you doing?”

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