Page 120 of Ice Princesses
My father’s expression doesn’t change. “That doesn’t mean?—”
“No, it actually does,” Nina cuts in, stepping forward again, her tone edged with acidity. “It means she can say and do whatever the fuck she wants, whenever she wants, without running it by you first.”
I glance at her for a second, and she shrugs one shoulder like this is obvious, like we’re the only ones in the room who understand how ridiculous this sounds.
My mother’s smile drops instantly.
“Language is not the issue here,” she says coolly.
“No,” Nina replies immediately. “It really isn’t.”
CHAPTER 42
CECILIA
“Holy fuck,”I say, and it comes out somewhere between a laugh and a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
We’re back at Isabella’s hotel, and of course it’s the most opulent suite I’ve seen in my life. I don’t remember the walk or deciding to come here or who suggested it.
I just remember her hand on mine at the rink, not letting go as we walked out.
She closes the door behind us, and I don’t move. I simply stand there, looking at her.
And it’s different now.
Not the same as the locker room. Not the same as before, in her cozy house with her judgmental cat.
“Holy fuck,” I say again. There’s no urgency in my words, no rush to make up or try to take back the words we said before. “You were right.”
“Yeah,” she replies quietly, her mouth lifting just slightly at the corner, like she knows exactly what I mean even if I didn’t say anything else.
I drag a hand down my face and let out a breath that relaxes me, resets me, my body finally catching up to the past five hours.
“Jesus, Princess. That was…” I start, then shake my head because there isn’t a word that fits what just happened, not one that doesn’t feel like it’s missing something important.
“Completely unhinged?” she offers.
I huff out a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
The way Isabella is looking at me now isn’t searching or uncertain, isn’t trying to figure out what this is or where it’s going.
It’s steady.
And my body responds, not in panic this time but in recognition of what that look means, if I let myself believe it.
I take a slow step in her direction. Giving her time to move away if she wants to, to change her mind and step back into something easier than this.
“Are you okay?” I ask, almost in a whisper, because this is all that matters and everything else can wait if the answer is no.
She nods once, her gaze not leaving mine. Those icy blue eyes are shining, even in the low light of the suite, and I can see it. The meaning of this.
“I’m better now,” she says.
I let out a small breath and close the rest of the distance between us, my hand finding her arm first, then sliding up to her shoulder, slower this time, more intentional than anything that came before.
“We should probably talk about—” I start.
She shakes her head, a barely there movement thatmakes her look shy and restrained. “We will,” she says. “I’m not avoiding it.”
