Page 26 of The Beat of her Heart

Addie’s heart raced, her pulse thudding in her ears. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them.

But then, Giselle pulled back. She stood up quickly, her hands dropping away from Addie’s ankle as if the moment hadn’t happened.

“You should stay off that for a bit,” Giselle said, her tone reverting to its usual neutrality. “Should get some ice on it. I’ll get a nurse to check on you.”

Addie blinked, her mind struggling to catch up with the sudden shift. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak right away. Her ankle still ached, but it was nothing compared to the jolt of electricity that had just passed between them. She couldn’t ignore it, even if Giselle was pretending nothing had happened.

Giselle stood a few feet away now, herposture rigid again, the distance between them reinstated. It was as if she’d shut herself off in an instant and put her cold, professional walls back up.

Addie flexed her ankle, testing the pain. “It’s not that bad,” she said, trying to fill the silence. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Giselle gave her a curt nod. “Still, better to be cautious. You don’t want to aggravate it.”

“Thanks for helping me,” Addie said.

Giselle finally met her eyes, but just for a second. “It was nothing.”

Giselle stood back up, the cool professional mask firmly back in place, but Addie wasn’t about to let it slide. There’d been a shift between them, and she wasn’t ready to let Giselle retreat into her icy demeanor so easily.

“You know, for someone so good at being cold, you were pretty sweet with my ankle,” Addie said, leaning back against the chair and watching Giselle closely. “Almost had me thinking you cared.”

Giselle frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was just doing my job.”

Addie smirked. “Oh, come on. If we’regoing to be working together, you have to learn to take a joke.”

Giselle’s frown deepened. “Is everything a joke to you?”

“Not everything.” Addie grinned and pushed herself up off the chair, though her ankle still ached. “Just the good parts.”

Giselle’s gaze narrowed, but there was something behind it, a glimmer of something softer. “How are you always so cheery?” she asked, her voice lower now, almost curious. “You walk around with that smile plastered on your face all the time.”

Addie shrugged casually. “It’s the pretzels.”

“The pretzels?”

“Yeah,” Addie said, keeping her expression serious. “Haven’t you heard? The cafeteria pretzels are life-changing.”

For a second, Giselle just stared at her. Then her lips parted slightly. “Pretzels? They’re that good?”

Addie laughed. Giselle’s seriousness amused her as much as it surprised her.

“No, it’s a joke.”

Giselle rolled her eyes, but Addie noticed her lips twitch, almost as if she was fightingback a smile. It was brief, but it was there. Addie found it sweet that Giselle tried to keep up her icy exterior. It only made her want to dig deeper, to find out what lay beneath the surface.

“So why are you always so sweet, then?” Giselle asked, crossing her arms again, though her tone had softened. “Since it’s not the pretzels.”

Addie swallowed. “You just called me sweet,” she said, raising a brow.

“Don’t push it,” Giselle said.

Addie shrugged, leaning back against the wall now, feeling a little more comfortable in the conversation. “I guess it’s just what I know. Both of my moms were always nice.”

Giselle’s eyes flicked up at that. “Both of them?”

“Yeah,” Addie said with a smile. “I was raised by two women who knew how to keep things light, even when life got hard.”

There was a pause. Giselle’s eyes shifted slightly and her posture stiffened again. “So they never tried to push you into anything? Never forced you into a career path?”

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