Page 20 of Break The Ice

“Bingo.”

I shift until I’m lying beside her, staring at the ceiling. “Its relaxing.”

“Agree to disagree,” Ryann says and chuckles.

“What?”

“I just, this whole situation. I caught a ride with Raider because he promised to feed me, hooked up with him, and ended up a prisoner.”

Wait! WAIT! WHAT?

“You hooked up with Raider?” I ask sharply. That was information he did not divulge.

She sits up and rolls to her feet. I sit up but don’t stand. I just watch her from the floor.

“It wasn’t really a hookup, we just kissed. It meant nothing.” She’s frantic, her cheeks red. She won’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry!”

Oh, no, this won’t do. I get up and follow her as she very discreetly flees from me.

In the end, I have to grab her arm before she ascends the stairs. I pull too hard, and she spins, smacking into my chest with an oof. Because she’s standing on the stair above me, we’re at the same height.

Those lavender eyes seem like spirals into some mystery world I want to know. Absently, I notice her eyelashes and eyebrows are a darker shade of her auburn hair. Her skin isn’t pale, but a light brown that just makes her seem more mysterious.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, but I’ve almost forgotten why I’m asking.

“Because I didn’t know he had a pack, and he was drunk.”

I make a scoffing sound. “Raider hooked up with you because he wanted to, and, regardless of how drunk he was, he only gets more stubborn with booze. It wasn’t an accident.”

Her eyes look between mine before dropping to my lips. Is she imagining kissing me? Does she want to know what I taste like as much as I want to know what she tastes like? Am I the only one who feels this?

She clears her throat and steps back, putting much needed distance between us. I let go of her arm.

“Sorry, I’m just going to go and have a shower,” she mutters.

“Sure, of course.”

She takes another step back, looking anywhere but at me.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

My smile is instant, and I suspect surprising for her. “Is it? Because every time anyone says that, it’s always-”

“No!” she almost shouts. “This is definitely one of those situations where it is me, not you. I’m not good at being around people, and I make things weird.”

I cock my head to the side, charmed by her despite the fact she is literally warning me off. “This isn’t weird.”

She takes another step. Her expression borders on panic that I don’t feel inclined to soothe.

“What do you want for lunch?” I call out to stop her retreat.

“Oh, I’m not hungry.”

Her stomach growls loudly, and she closes her eyes, no doubt willing the ground to open and swallow her whole.

“Something small?” she asks in a meek voice.

I bite my lower lip and gesture to the kitchen. “I can whip it up and meet you in the dining room. Is there anything you don’t eat?”

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