Page 16 of In Bed with the Ice Queen

With the water hitting her back, she found herself smiling just a little as a thought crossed her mind. Maybe she could be friends with Sloane, but would Sloane want to be friends with someone like her? And is it really ok to crush on a friend the way that Helena was beginning to crush on Sloane? The speck of confidence she had slowly began to dampen.

“Okay, okay,” Helena said, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. “Pull it together.”

She glanced at her makeup bag on the counter, a splurge of colors tumbling out like a vibrant jumble of candy. After a moment of hesitation, she opened it and decided just to apply a splash of blush to her cheeks and some chapstick. Just enough to look fresh, but not too much. Peering into the mirror, she questioned Sloane’s motives again before she dismissed them, reasoning it didn’t matter what Sloane thought. With her heart racing, she took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. The moment she stepped out of the warm solitude, she was met with Sloane stretched out on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV.

“Hey, there you are!” Sloane said, her tone light and friendly, her smile easy. “I thought you were hiding from me.”

Helena felt her nervousness wash away slightly as she braced herself against the bathroom door frame, her voice steadier than it felt. “I didn’t want to come out looking like a mess.”

“I doubt you could ever look like a mess,” Sloane replied playfully, her eyes twinkling. “But it’s nice to finally see you. You’ve got the whole ‘fresh face’ look going on. Very chic. I like the loungewear. Is that Versace?”

Helena looked down at her night attire, feeling exposed, but she was glad to see Sloane had also gotten into pajamas. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. They were just two women in a hotel room—nothing more, nothing less. Or perhaps, just maybe, there was the spark of friendship kindling underneath.

“Yes, thanks,” Helena said, a genuine smile breaking across her face. “I mean, it feels a little vulnerable to be without make up post 40.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m nearing forty too, I understand,” Sloane replied. “Now, want to order some room service and watch something terrible on TV?”

“I guess,” Helena said, feeling more at ease. As they sat together, Helena couldn’t shake off the feeling that maybe this whole situation was bizarre.

Sloane laughed as she flicked through the TV channels. "Want to watch The Office instead? It’s kind of late to start a movie. You like that show, right?"

Helena raised an eyebrow, momentarily distracted. “Of course I love it! Who doesn’t love Michael Scott's clueless antics?”

Soon, their room service arrived, carrying the rich smell of pizza, fresh salad, and golden chicken tenders that filled the room. Asthey dug into their food, sharing laughs over the quirky humor of the show, something shifted in the air. Sloane sat across from her on the couch, and Helena couldn't help but notice the little things, like how Sloane nibbled on a chicken tender and how her eyes lit up during a funny scene.

“See? This is way better than sulking alone,” Sloane said, her laughter infectious.

“Maybe,” Helena mumbled, but her heart wasn’t fully in it. She quickly shoved a piece of pizza in her mouth to distract herself so she didn’t have to think too hard about what she was feeling.

After the episode ended, the room fell silent. Helena felt the awkwardness creeping back in. She had to get up. Standing wasn’t a problem; it was the unsettling sensation in her chest that made her feel nervous. She didn’t want to analyze her feelings, especially about Sloane. They were just colleagues, after all.

"Mind if I brush my teeth first?" Sloane asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Helena replied, trying not to trip over her words.

After Sloane was done, Helena walked to the bathroom, and she couldn’t shake the undercurrent of nervousness. There was something about Sloane that made her pulse quicken, something unnervingly intriguing. Maybe it was those blue eyes. Or perhaps it was simply her confidence. Helena quickly washed her hands and splashed her face with cold water, hoping to reset her mind.

Sloane had such confidence in her sexuality and although that was terrifying, it was also so attractive. Helena realized suddenly how little experience she had with women and she felt very exposed.

When she returned, Sloane was trying to adjust on the couch, her long legs sticking out awkwardly. Helena dislikedhow her heart thudded at the sight. Sloane looked just a little uncomfortable, her usual poise tinged with unease.

“This couch is not made for sleeping. I feel like a pretzel,” Sloane joked, a light blush creeping up her cheeks.

Helena felt a twinge of guilt. "You know, you can join me in the bed if you want. It would be less...cramped," she offered hesitantly.

“Really?” She sat up perched on one arm, looking over.

“As long as you promise you didn’t orchestrate this whole thing just to get me into bed,” Helena joked, but she secretly was curious.

“What? Why would you think I’d want to?” Sloane asked.

Helena glanced away, swallowing hard. "I don’t know. You were hitting on me after our meeting."

“Ugh, not this again,” Sloane said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe lawyers are hard to trust, but I promise you I wouldn’t pull a stunt like this. I have no idea how all this happened. It must have been a mix-up with the reservation."

Helena shrugged, her thoughts spinning. They were colleagues, but there was something more right now. Something that made her cheeks warm. Maybe it was just the pizza talking, but she didn’t entirely believe that. Sloane’s laughter lingered in her mind, intoxicating yet confusing.

Sloane’s pyjamas consisted of striped PJ bottoms and a tight tank top that showed off the outline of her breasts. And her nipples. Helena couldn’t help her eyes sweeping over them.

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