Page 30 of As You Ice It

He’s wearing a fitted athletic shirt, and I’m surprised he doesn’t smell bad. I’ve heard about the hockey stink (from Liam, of course), but I bet the hockey classes with someone on Liam’s level don’t require a lot of actual exertion on the part of pro hockey players. In any case, Camden unfortunately smells great.

Needing an immediate escape, I take the steps two at a time, stopping the next floor up, severely winded. I lean against the wall, panting and cursing my lack of cardio. Camden’s steps are slow and measured. When he reaches me, still attempting to catch my breath, he pauses.

“What if we’re going down?” he asks.

My head whips up, and I know my cheeks are flushed. Either from the sadly minimal amount of exertion or embarrassment. “Are we?”

“Nope.” And then a slow smile unfurls on his stupidly handsome face, dragging an unwilling smile from me.

Without thinking, I reach out a hand and shove him. He doesn’t budge. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe.” Another pause. The smile shifts into a smirk. “We’ve got another two flights up. Need me to carry you the rest of the way?”

“Absolutely not.”

But before I can duck or dodge out of the way, Camden scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder, then starts up the stairs. I consider pounding my fists against his back, but I know it would be the equivalent of a little fish flapping its fins to wave off a shark. Instead, I go boneless and limp, remembering.

Early last summer, we were walking along the beach and I stumbled, turning my ankle. I didn’t sprain it or anything, just stumbled a little in a hole some kid probably dug with a plastic shovel.

And just like he did now, Camden picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I fought him then, and in retaliation, he walked us both right into the ocean. Which would have been fine except we were fully clothed.

Actually, that was fine too. In those days, when we were still insisting things were just casual and fun, everything was fine.

“Really?” I ask sarcastically as he starts to climb. “You’re choosing the caveman path again?”

“I guess it’s just in my nature.”

“Icanclimb stairs, you know.” Though it’s surprisingly comfortable letting him carry me, I shouldn’t let myself enjoy it. But it’s hard to find anythingnotenjoyable about being this close to him again, feeling the ease with which he carries me and the strength of his arm, banded over the back of my thighs.

“Sure,” he says easily. “But you also seemed poised for a cardiac event after just one flight, and we can’t have that.”

“I’mfine.”

“You are.”

My stomach does a little happy dance at his words, and I threaten it with no more apple cider donuts ever if it doesn’t calm down.

Camden reaches the final landing and heads through a doorway, still keeping me over his shoulder.

“We’re done with the stairs now. You can put me down,” I point out.

He only grunts at this, tightening his grip a little on my thighs. But I’ve had quite enough up close and personal time with him. He’s simply too tempting. I can already feel my resolve, once titanium plated, disintegrating under the pressure of Camden’s presence.

I tap him lightly on the back. “Put me down. Please?”

It’s impossible to hide the tremble in my voice, and he sets me down quickly. I step away, hoping to reset my self-control. It only sort of works.

“Where are we?” I ask, glancing around. We’re definitely not in any kind of public space. It’s dimly lit and would be creepy if I weren’t with someone who made me feel so safe.

Which, ironically, makes him completelyunsafe.

“I know you’re not great with stairs, but how are you with heights?” Camden asks.

“Once again, I’m fine with stairs—if I’m not running up them. And I’m good with heights. We’re not bungee jumping off the top of the building or something, right?”

He looks amused. “No.”

“BASE jumping?”

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