Page 23 of Ice Queen

CHAPTER 8

Kaitlyn

Sports Romance Night was a week ago, and I’m starting to think that Hannah forgot about talking business. Or maybe she was just trying to be nice. That’s probably it. I mean, who wants to do business with someone they just met?

I roll my eyes despite myself. I’m not going to lie, doing things on my own, things that I’m proud of, it opens the door for doubt. Like a hard pump to the brakes, can you really do this?

Standing in the store I built myself, though, I’m reminded of who I actually am. A survivor. A woman who lost everything because I believed in the fairy tale of falling for the man who saved the damsel in distress.

When I met Wyatt, I was a lost college kid, one who was fighting with her parents more often than not. They wanted one thing for me, I wanted what I knew, what was comfortable.

He exploited that. He made them the problem. Isolated me, filled my head with lies that I eventually started believing to be the truth. And soon, Kaitlyn Tyler ceased to exist. All my thoughts, my hopes, and dreams were the ones he planted and watered over the years.

A loud bark of laughter escapes me as I realize the irony, and I quickly throw my hand over my mouth to smother the noise. As soon as I do, though, the front door opens, and in walks the very man who ran away from me without a parting glance at the arena the other night.

His steel gray eyes catch the light coming into the store, and my breath catches as I take him in. I knew he was tall and big, that’s the reason I asked for his help in the first place. But here, in regular clothes, good God Almighty.

Light wash jeans cling to his muscular thighs, a long-sleeved dark gray Henley hugs the muscles in his chest and arms in a way that has me suddenly wishing I were a piece of fabric. His black hair is perfectly styled, the man honestly looks like he just stepped off the set of a photoshoot. Then my eyes trail down his arms, and I notice that in his hands sit two coffees.

As he slowly turns toward me, a smirk grows across his face. “Maria was right, this place is awesome.” He closes the distance between us in three long strides, he extends one of the coffees toward me, and when my eyes travel up to meet his, I almost choke on my tongue.

No, Kaitlyn.

“She asked me to bring this to you, Princesa.” He winks, shaking the cup slightly.

My arms cross over my chest, one eyebrow raising as my eyes dart between him and the coffee. “So you do remember?”

He pushes his lip ring with his tongue, setting both cups down on the counter before his hands flatten against the smooth surface. “I never forgot, but unless you wanted to explain the situation to a bunch of people in the middle of an event, I figured it was best I didn’t say anything. I’m sorry if that offended you.”

An apology? I honestly don’t even know what to do with that. The shock must be written on my face because he chuckles, “Have coffee with me? You can tell me all about this place.”

“What makes you think I want anything to do with you?” I fire back. Truthfully, the mere proximity of this man is making my brain melt, and I don’t even want to acknowledge that piece of information.

“Eres una actriz pésima,⁠*” he whispers. “Come on, Princesa. One coffee isn’t going to kill you.”

“My name is Kaitlyn.”

“Sí, lo sé.⁠*” He leans over the counter, invading my space, making heat crawl up my neck. “I like Princesa better, though. It suits you.”

Me too. I think before I swipe the coffee off the counter, and take a step back. “Fine, one coffee. Then you’ll leave me to my work?”

He nods, the ends of his lip ring disappearing before coming out on the other side. “Yes, but not before you help me pick our next book. It’s my turn.”

I snort out a laugh, my head shaking behind my cup as I head to the back of the store, where there are comfy bean bag chairs. I originally bought them because they’re soft, and dragging my fingers across them does something to calm me when I get overwhelmed. And current Kaitlyn is thanking past Kaitlyn, because I am overwhelmed with him here.

“Whoa,” he says over my shoulder. “Can we have book club here? This is awesome.”

I pause mid-step, my foot slowly lowering as I turn to look at him. “You want to have your book club here?”

He nods once, eyes surveying the place in a way that’s all too familiar. One that says it’s ingrained in him to not only look for a threat, but to have a plan of action before you get comfortable. One I haven’t seen anyone else do, but myself.

“Why?”

He clears his throat, picking the bean bag closest to the wall while still making sure he can see the front door. Who is this man, and what has he lived through? Does he know what he’s doing, or is he just coincidentally a mirror to my own habits?

“Because it’s homey and there are books. It’s a, what do they call it?” Lifting the cup to his full lips, he takes a drink, his eyes never leaving mine as he lowers it. A bit of coffee comes out of the top, and he swipes at it with his tongue. “Ahh, yes.” He snaps his fingers and points in my direction. “A vibe.”

“Okay then,” I rush out, quickly looking away, and sitting in the chair across from him so that I, too, can see the door.