Page 73 of Ice Queen

* Promise me, you’ll live for us both.

* I don’t need you to save me anymore, Markus.

* The stars, Markus. Follow the stars.

* Millie, what stars?

CHAPTER 24

Kaitlyn

I must have fallen asleep because I wake up with strong arms wrapped around my waist. The low hum of the TV in the background threatened to pull me back to dreamland. The sun is just starting to rise, and I don’t want to move. I can’t remember the last time someone, other than Maggie, cuddled with me. Wyatt hated it, always made me feel like I was asking for too much when all I wanted was to be held for a second.

“Stop moving.” Markus’ sleep-heavy, raspy voice has me imagining a hundred different ways we could start the day off. I was mostly playing with him last night, wanting to see how far I could push the boundary. I never imagined he’d play into it, nor did I think he’d agree to a date.

We watched more than one movie, talked about everything that came to mind, and I must have fallen asleep at some point because I don’t remember how we got into this position. I move slightly, and my ass rubs up against a freaking steel rod. I gasp at the same time he groans. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about being gigantic. How the hell does that fit in a jock strap?”

Heat immediately floods my face, and I hop off the couch before he barks out a laugh so loud it scares Maggie.

“It doesn’t fit if it’s hard.” His laugh continues, and I find myself standing in front of him, awestruck at just how beautiful this man is. His laugh is deep and raspy, his hair still looks perfect when it’s messy, and his eyes shine in the low light of the morning as he looks at me. “God, could you imagine trying to skate with a boner? That would be my own version of hell,” he says as he tracks my movement.

I stand in the kitchen with my palms flat on the countertop, soaking in the view in front of me. He’s rocking mussed hair, sleepy eyes, but he looks so relaxed, peaceful. “I want to try to make pancakes. Your sister sent me a recipe.”

His brow arches. “For chocolate chip ones?”

I nod, fingers flexing against the cool edge of the counter.

“Those are my favorite,” he says.

Of course they are, why wouldn’t she send me his favorite? No freaking pressure or anything. He must sense my panic because he gets off the couch and comes to my side. “I can help you, but let me go brush my teeth first.”

Oh, yeah, that's a good idea. I should probably do that too. “Okay, meet back here in five?” I ask.

His eyes soften, and he drags his hand through his hair before letting it fall to his side. “Yeah, it’s a date,” he murmurs. Then, he winks. He freaking winks. Hell, if I had the time to quell the ache that sent straight to my core, I would, but five minutes ain’t enough time for all that.

Hurrying to my room, I run through my morning routine, pulling a brush through my hair, and pause when I notice my face. There’s a glow that hasn’t been there since college. I’m happy, I realize. Truly happy, and even if I don’t know what the future holds, I’m choosing to lean into this. Into him.

I swipe a bit of clear gloss over my lips, and slide a hair tie onto my wrist in case it gets in the way while we’re cooking. He’s already waiting by the island when I emerge from my room. I can’t help but look at the time on the clock. Has it been five minutes? Did I take too long? My eyes roam the island. He’s lined up the ingredients the same way he did when he cooked for me the first time, but when he sees me, he steps back and smiles so big his eyes crinkle at the corners. “This is your show, I’m just the assistant.”

I duck my head, trying to tamp down on the feelings running through me before I make a fool of myself, as I step up and find the text I got from Cecilia the other day. She actually sent me a list of easy things to make, and said she’d come over next time they went out of town to teach me some other things. Moving through the steps with ease, I get to the part where I have to pour the batter onto the griddle.

The batter hits the flat surface with a soft sizzle. I wait for the bubbles around the edges before I try to flip it. But apparently this one wasn’t quite ready, and when I flip it, batter flies off the griddle and lands on my face. I hiss, the heat a shock against my skin.

Markus immediately turns me toward him and swipes the batter off my skin before placing a kiss on the spot it landed.

“Sorry,” he mumbles when he pulls away.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you. I don’t even know your favorite color, and here I am kissing your booboos.”

My stomach flutters, and I move my gaze to his face. His cheeks are stained the lightest shade of pink, mostly hidden under the scruff on his face. “It’s light blue, believe it or not. And you can kiss my booboos anytime you want.”

“And what about you?” He pauses, hand brushing against my cheek before he lets it fall to his side. “Can I kiss you anytime I want?” His eyes slowly fall to my lips.

I lean in, pressing up on my toes as my hands rest softly against his stomach. His abs flex beneath me. “Are you going to catch me when I fall, Casanova? Because I’m already halfway there.”

He rests his lips against mine. “Only if you catch me back.”