Page 50 of Ruin The Friendship
I rub our hands together to create friction. “We can’t have you cold.”
She laughs softly. “I promise, I’m fine. I want to keep exploring, and we can’t do that with my hands held captive. I’ll put them in my pockets.”
“At least give me one of your hands.” I let go of both of hers to offer one of mine.
She takes my left hand in her right, tucking her left hand into the pocket of her jacket. I rub my thumb over her skin, using the friction to keep her warm.
Before we continue, I fix her hat so it covers her ears again. “There. Now we can go.”
I don’t miss the twinkle in her eyes as we turn and continue our journey through the winter wonderland.
Once we’ve made our way through every trail and light show, we head back to the main area, and I sit Lydia down in front of the bonfire to warm up. No matter how many times she’s told me she’s not cold, I saw her shiver more than once.
I grab us hot chocolates with whipped cream and some warm chocolate chip cookies. When I sit next to her and pass her the hot cup, she smiles as if I’ve just given her the world. “This smells amazing.”
Her comment reminds me of something I keep forgettingto ask her. “Have you had any weird cravings? I remember when my sister was pregnant, she would eat the weirdest things. Once, her husband caught her eating a pickle covered in chives, sour cream, and mustard. It was gross.”
Lydia laughs. “No, nothing outlandish yet.”
“But you have had cravings?”
She nods as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate. I wish she’d told me, so I could have provided them. The whipped cream sticks to her top lip, and I don’t hold myself back from swiping it off her skin and licking it from my thumb.
Her pupils dilate.
I probably shouldn’t have done that.
“Sorry,” I mutter with a laugh.
She shakes her head, a soft smile twitching on her lips. “No reason to be sorry.”
“What have you been craving?”
“Popcorn. But not just any popcorn. The popcorn from the arena. It’s the best. The perfect mix of salty and buttery.” Her words drift off into a sigh. “I’m going to have to start coming to every single game so I can get some.”
I laugh and take a sip of my hot drink. The chocolate flavor is rich and definitely homemade, and not from a powder. It’s amazing. I withhold the groan rising in my chest.
“This might be my next craving, though,” Lydia says as she takes another drink. She practically melts. “So good.”
“I’ll go see if I can get the recipe.” I stand, ignoring her protests as I head back to the food truck.
The teen at the register has a brief look of panic on his face as I stride up to him, probably scared that something is wrong with the drink and I’m about to ream him a new one.
“Hey man,” I say. “What are the chances I can get the recipe for this hot chocolate?”
His eyes go round as he gets a second look at me. “You’re Fletcher Graff,” he says with a shaky voice.
“In the flesh.” I chuckle.
This may work in my favor.
His name tag reads Dylan.
“You a hockey fan?”
He nods rapidly. “Yeah. I watch every game I can.”
“Do you play, Dylan?”
