Page 24 of Ice Queen

I may not be looking at him anymore, but I can feel his eyes as they take me in. The silence gets to be too much for me, and my mouth moves faster than my brain.

“I didn’t stalk you and move here on the off chance I’d see you again, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I blurt out.

My eyes cut to his. His cup is halfway to his lips, but I see the smile forming behind it. Holy shit, Kaitlyn, why did you say that?!

If my face wasn’t already seconds from bursting into flames, the sound of his laugh would have sent me there. It’s deep, raspy, and somehow the exact way I’ve always imagined my favorite book boyfriend’s laugh would sound.

His shoulders shake, his head tipping back to expose a strong, corded neck, and traps I’d love to sink my teeth into. Get it together, woman. Dropping my head into my hands, I silently hope that the floor will just open up and swallow me whole.

“I didn’t think that,” he says, still trying to rein in his laughter. “But thank you for clarifying, I’m glad you aren’t a stalker.”

Peeking through my hands, I look up at him. His stupidly handsome face is still painted in a million-dollar smile. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He brings his thumb and his forefinger up, leaving a little bit of space between them as he says, “Solo un poquito, yes.⁠*”

“What does that mean?” I make a mental note to pick up a Spanish book after he leaves. But why do you need to know Spanish, Kaitlyn?

“A little.” He leans back, lacing his fingers together behind his head. “How did you end up here?”

My hands fall, resting on my thighs as I move the fidget ring back and forth on my thumb. My stinking restless leg is bouncing like it’s seconds from taking off from the starting line. Maybe I should take up running or something, get all this excess energy out. “I asked the lady at the ticket counter to put me on the first flight somewhere warm. As fate would have it, that was here.”

I brace myself for the outrage, for the multiple ways I’m about to get called a liar, because there’s just no way that could be what happened. Plus, I did just randomly tell him I’m not a stalker, which I’m pretty sure is what an actual stalker would do.

“Huh.”

Here it comes, my nose crinkles as I look at him, readying myself for the barrage of negativity.

“Fate indeed,” he says, his voice taking on a tone that almost sounds like awe.

My jaw drops. There’s no way he’s believing this just because I said it. Doesn’t want proof? Doesn’t he need me to tell him the exact same story at least five more times before he believes it?

“What?” He asks as I stare, gaping like a bloody fish out of water.

He’s not Wyatt, Kaitlyn. Yeah, doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy either. “Um. Nothing. Do you guys have a theme for this month's book club, or do you just get to pick whatever?”

The door jingles, and I’ve never been more thankful that someone’s come in to save me from myself. “Feel free to look around,” I tell him as I stand. “Let me know if you need suggestions or something.”

I don’t look back as I greet the group of ladies that just walked in. My body is hyperaware of him for some reason. It could be his sheer size. He’s tall, but he’s just as wide, and built of what I’m assuming is solid muscle. The girls take notice, giggling when they realize who he is.

He pays them no mind, though, that is, until they ask for a picture. I watch him agree, but then he shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, his arms pinned to his sides, making it so they can’t position themselves in a way that looks more than what it is.

I wonder how often these men get exploited while they’re just trying to live their everyday lives. I can’t imagine how much that would suck to be noticed everywhere you go. The man was just looking at... Oh my. My lips roll together, doing everything they can to keep the laugh from escaping when I realize what aisle he’s in.

There are two options here: he’s either looking at monster smut or Regency era smut. Both of which would not be in my first hundred guesses of what the man would read, not that I’d really peg him as a reader anyway. He catches my eye while the girls next to him keep taking their pictures. His head tilts to the side, and as if he’s forgotten they were even here, he steps through them and heads straight for me.

“What’s so funny?” His voice seemed to have dropped an octave or two. The deep rumble vibrates through me. My chest rises and falls at a rapid pace, his eyes holding me captive. “Hmm?...” It’s almost a growl.

The sound of giggling women pulls me from my thoughts. “Just didn’t picture you as a monster smut guy.”

He bites down on his lip ring before letting it go. “Just a regular smut guy then?”

“N-no.” My eyes fall to his lips, the lips he just dragged his tongue across, and are now glistening in front of me.

“I mean.” Could I make a bigger fool of myself today? My hands mindlessly fiddle with my sleeve as I try to come up with anything to say to that.

Why isn’t he making fun of me for being so awkward? Or is this a normal reaction women have to him? That’s probably it. He’s probably used to women losing their minds in his presence. I bet he’s got a line of them, willing and able to act out any of these. You know what. No. Not going there.

Rather than waiting for me to answer, he just smirks and says, “I’ll come back with Monroe later this week. I gotta head home, Maggie’s got a grooming appointment.” He knocks his knuckles on the counter twice before taking a step back. “See you soon, Kaitlyn.”