Page 80 of Heat It Up (Off the Ice)
I leave everyone in the hallway and begin packing my bag. The front door buzzer intrudes on my thoughts, which is followed by the familiar voice of Joni’s grandmother. I rejoin them, and both guys move to grab the bag from my hands. Kyle is standing next to me so he wins this round of Testosterone Wars. I roll my eyes at the smirk he levels in Joni’s direction. Kyle follows us downstairs to Joni’s car. Before I can offer to sit in the back, Aino dives into the backseat, forcing me to sit up front with Joni. Kyle loads my bag into the trunk and walks me to the passenger side.
I kiss him, the moment too brief. “See you Tuesday.”
Kyle knots his fingers in my hair, keeping me close, and his tongue darts along my lips. Without meaning to, I open my mouth and let him in. My arms wrap around his neck and I get lost in the kiss. Time loses all meaning. Everything I’m supposed to be doing is no longer important. All I can think about is the taste of him, the warmth of his soft lips against mine, and the strength of his arms around me.
It’s not until someone politely coughs that I snap back to the moment and remember we’re standing next to Joni’s car, with everyone watching us. Kyle’s wearing a smug look aimed at Joni. This time when I kiss him, it’s a quick peck on his cheek. I wave goodbye to Muumu and climb in.
The journey isn’t too bad. Aino talks the entire trip, and Joni is forced to translate, but she’s funny and has lots to say. I spend a lot of the journey laughing, despite the battle of emotions inside me. The last thing I want is to ruin the trip for everyone. I push past my pain, remembering the reason why I’m going to Jyväskylä with Joni.
Joni and I don’t have a chance to say much to each other. A few times I get the feeling he wishes he could zip his grandmother’s mouth shut since she loves sharing embarrassing tales about his childhood, which he translates even though it’s obvious he would prefer changing topics.
After we drop her off at a family member’s house, and tell her we’ll see her in two hours, we drive to the hotel where Muumu, instead of Joni, booked our reservations. Or rather, the small inn where she booked our reservations. It’s quaint, with flower boxes bursting with bright blossoms under all the windows. It’s the kind of place you would bring your loved one for a romantic hideaway. I mute the alarm in my head. Just because it looks like that kind of place doesn’t mean Joni expects this to be a romantic weekend between the two of us. As weekends go, this will be the opposite to when Kyle and I were stranded on the island during the storm.
Joni opens the trunk and I grab my backpack before he has a chance. He removes his bag and follows me into the building. The only person in the lobby is the girl behind the desk, tapping keys on her computer. We walk over to her.
“Hei, we have two rooms booked,” I tell her, temporarily forgetting Joni could have told her this in her native language. “One for Sofia Philips and the other for Joni Kurri.”
She punches on a few keys, frowns, and taps on a few more. “We only have a reservation for a Mr. Joni Kurri and guest. With a king-sized bed.”
“There must be some kind of mistake. My grandmother booked us two rooms not one.” At least I’m pretty sure she would have booked two.
The girl shakes her head. “Sorry. This is all I have booked under those names.”
I give her Muumu’s name, but the result is the same. She either booked the one room or they made a mistake with the reservation. “Can I book a room then?”
She shakes her head, again. “We’re all booked up. You could try elsewhere but there’s a convention in town. Everywhere has been booked for months. You were lucky to get this room.” Which explains why Muumu ended up booking only the one room. She trusts Joni isn’t going to try anything or hurt me—otherwise she never would’ve let me go with him.
“Okay, we’ll take the room,” I say.
Once we’re checked in, we climb the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t take long to track down the room, and I stand by my original belief. This room is a perfect getaway, with the fireplace, two armchairs in front of it, and the roomy bed.
“I can sleep on the floor,” Joni says, frowning and looking around the room.
“Don’t worry about it. There’s plenty of room on the bed.” And plenty of pillows to build a barricade between us, in case he forgets it’s me in the bed and tries to cuddle—like Kyle has a habit of doing. “I’m going to have a shower.”
I have a quick shower and re-apply my makeup. As I step out of the bathroom, I catch Joni sneaking glances at me in my pale yellow sundress while he pretends to read a brochure. My face heats and I rush over to my bag to find my sandals.
While Joni gets ready, I call Kyle. Because we’re being honest with each other, I tell him about the mistake with the room. The last thing I need is for him to accidentally find out from someone else, mostly notably Joni. Then he’ll never trust me, even if it really doesn’t matter in the end. He’s leaving Minneapolis and I’m probably staying in Finland.
“I trust you,” Kyle says after I tell him nothing will happen. “It’s him I’m not too sure about.”
“He’s not going to try anything. I’m sure he’d prefer his own room than share one with me.”
Kyle mutters something that sounds like, “That’s what you think.”
“Everything’s gonna be fine, I promise.”
“Just be careful. And kick his ass, hard, if he tries anything, okay?”
I laugh, and any previous trace of nervousness about how Kyle will respond to the news slips away.
We talk until Joni is ready to leave. I almost tell Kyle that I love him, but catch myself at the last second. I can’t do that. He’s leaving soon and this summer will amount to nothing more than a summer fling.
The evening with Joni’s relatives is entertaining, the view of the lake breathtaking, with the forest of pine and birch skirting the water and providing privacy from the neighboring houses. His aunt set up a long table containing various foods and drinks, and as the evening wears on, the laughter grows louder, as does the music and singing. The gathering consists of at least twenty people. The older adults chat around the fire not far from the water’s edge. The aroma of grilled Finnish sausage links fills the air.
Joni and I hang out near the red barn-style house, with a few of his relatives who are close to our age. All speak various levels of English and are happy to practice it…and teach me inappropriate words in Finnish. Luckily for me, Joni warned me that’s what they were doing. It would’ve been a little embarrassing if I had said the words to Muumu. Oh, who am I kidding? Saying “pussy” to her would be mortifying.
I glare at the male cousin who can’t stop laughing after I said the word perfectly, thinking he told me something else. Joni slings his arm over my shoulder and tells his cousin off. Or at least I think that’s what he’s saying. He says it in Finnish while frowning, and his other cousins burst out laughing.
