Page 33 of Breaking the Ice

I huff a laugh. I can’t decide if I’m touched by his gesture or worried that I scared him that much. Either way, I take the chips.

“Thanks.” I point to the futons. “What are you doing?”

He winces. “Well, we need a couch for our apartment. Do you remember the line of camp chairs?”

“Oh, yeah.” I wondered about that in the living room. But… “Evan, you can’t seriously be considering buying a futon from Walmart, though?”

“Why not?” He asks, a defensive note in his voice. “We only need it for the rest of this year. Joe and I can just leave it for the guys when we graduate.”

“Sure, but this is probably less comfortable than the camp chairs.” I wrinkle my nose.

“That can’t be possible. Have you sat on them?”

“No, but have you sat on this?” I wave at the futon. “It’s all metal bars and not enough cushion.”

Evan glances around, a little lost. “Yeah, but what else am I gonna do?”

I wait a beat. Is he joking? He doesn’t say anything else.

“Um, buy a couch at a real furniture store?”

“Oh.” He blinks as if it’s a new concept. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

I take a step closer to him and put my hand on his arm. “Let me help you. And save everyone from the terrible fate of a futon.”

“Okay.” He gives me a crooked grin, then looks at our carts and his watch. “But not right now.”

“No, a proper furniture store is not open at ten o’clock at night. Besides, I need to go home and moan in bed and eat my weight in gummy foods. Does tomorrow work?”

He nods.

“I’ll text you where to meet me. We’ll pick out an actual couch for actual people.” I wink at him over my shoulder as I push my cart away.

“You’re the best, Isabella,” he calls after me.

“Don’t forget it.”

Evan is only five minutes late to the furniture store, which for him is pretty much on time. He ambles up to me with his hands in his pockets as I wait on the sidewalk outside, and my belly does a flip. Not the cramps kind, but more like, whoa, he’s hot.

Was Sing-O a date? I’m still not sure. That kiss we shared has been playing on a loop in my mind pretty much non-stop. He came to my show and brought me flowers. But what does it mean? He hasn’t said anything or made a move. My dad is his coach, and I’m not convinced Evan would be good for me. I’m attracted to him, sure, but so is every girl on campus. The problem is, he seems to have slept with all of them in the past. Is he still? I don’t know.

“Hi,” he says, smiling at me, and the traitorous flip happens again. Warmth spreads throughout my entire body.

When he holds out his palm, all my carefully crafted arguments against whatever this is fly out the window. I lace my fingers through his, and a thrill races down my spine as we walk into the store together.

We’re holding hands. It’s the most juvenile thing. Am I back in middle school? Do I want to write my bestie a note with my favorite pink gel pen and gush about it? Okay, maybe I do. Because he’s not looking at the other women in the store. He only has eyes for me. Evan makes me feel cherished, like he sees me for who I am and likes that version of me. It’s a heady thing.

I clear my throat and try to focus on the selection of couches spread before us. “Okay, I suppose we should have taken measurements first to really know what size space we were dealing with⁠—”

“Oh, I did.” He pulls a yellow Post-It note out of his pocket with a flourish and holds it up, showing me the dimensions of his living room. “Did you know you can use an app on your phone if you don’t own a tape measure?”

“Evan, you did your homework! And it wasn’t even assigned.” I beam at him, and I’m so proud, I can’t resist. I push up on my tiptoes and brush a kiss to his cheek. His skin is smooth and warm against my lips with a hint of rough stubble. The feel of it makes my thighs clench. Dropping my hand, he wraps his arm around me and keeps me pressed against his side after that, a faint flush to his skin. I think he likes my praise.

“So.” He steers us towards the sectionals. “Since it would fit, I think I’d like to get, like, the biggest one. That way we could have a ton of people over for movie nights and then leave it for the guys, so the tradition continues.”

I nod, then glance at the price tag. “Sure, but because these couches are so large, they are also the most expensive.”

At that, Evan shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”