Page 76 of Ice Me Out

DeAndre shook his head.

“They were plushies.”

“Noooooo,” I said, stifling a laugh.

“Yes. He collected them until he was 13. My mom still has them in a box in the attic. She wrote “Hart’s Babies” on the box.”

“That’s actually freaking adorable, and too cute to poke fun at,” I said, pouting at the missed opportunity.

I was a couple of bites into my sandwich when DeAndre veered the conversation in another direction.

“From what I hear and witnessed myself, you’re a very intelligent woman. But in case I missed the mark, I want you to know that Hart cares about you. I’ve known him for 24 years, and he has never been this swept up with a woman before. I know you two have your little arrangement, but if you’re not interested in pursuing anything beyond the arrangement, then you should let him know instead of stringing him along.”

My brows shot up. I knew DeAndre was looking out for his brother, but I couldn’t help taking offense.

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Stringing him along? Because you don’t know me well enough to come to that conclusion.”

DeAndre smiled tightly.

“You’re right, Vera. I’m sorry. I guess what I’m trying to say is that Hart is more delicate than he appears.”

I nodded.

“I’m starting to realize that,” I acknowledged.

“Just… be intentional with him. Are you picking up what I’m putting down?”

I nodded again before saying, “I hear you.”

“Good. It was nice talking to you, Vera. I hope to see you soon,” he said, leaving the office.

Not his bestie trying to check me.

I spent the next ten minutes scrolling online when Hart finally joined me.

“Wow. You look like shit,” I teased.

He chuckled and dropped onto the opposite end of the couch. He picked up my feet, slipped off my heels, and dropped them to the floor before setting my feet in his lap. A soft groan escaped my lips when he massaged my right foot.

“It’s good to know I look how I feel. How are you holding up?”

“I can’t even think straight with the way you’re massaging my foot. Ooo, don’t stop,” I pleaded, sinking further into the cushions.

Hart put those strong fingers to good use and continued kneading my aching feet.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” I asked, holding back a moan.

“Why did you come? And why did you give your portion of tips to the team?”

“Because you needed me, and I’m sure they needed the money more than I did. Don’t forget the other foot, Sweet Hart.”

He laughed softly and switched feet.

“Thank you for being kind to the staff. They had nothing but wonderful things to say about you. I appreciate you showing up for me, Verydian. And before you fuss at me for calling you by your government name, I want you to know that sometimes I can’t help but say it. Your parents knew what they were doing when they named you.”

“Hart,” I sighed, hoping to stop him before he got sappy on me and made me give him his apple-picking pass early.