Page 34 of Breaking the Ice

I stop in my tracks as I start to put facts together. “Evan… are you here on a hockey scholarship?”

“Nope.” He pops the P at the end of the word and rocks on the balls of his feet.

“And you’re from Michigan, right?”

“Uh-huh.” He points at a gray couch. “What do you think of this one?”

I’m still stuck on the information racing through my brain. I narrow my eyes. “So out-of-state tuition. Are you filthy rich?”

“Me?” He puts his hand on his chest. “No. Not filthy. My parents, who happen to be a lawyer and a doctor, respectively? Maybe.”

“Ah, I see.”

Evan turns to face me, a serious light in his normally unconcerned eyes. “No, I doubt you do. Because my perfect lesbian sister is also a doctor and her partner is an investment banker. And I want to play hockey and be a gym teacher. So you can imagine how my high-powered family feels about that.”

“Oh,” I say, but he keeps talking, practically vibrating in his emotion.

“If I want to spend their money on a giant couch, I will take it as payment for all the guilt I put up with.” Almost panting, he raises a brow as if I’m going to challenge this.

But I put my hand on his arm. “That sounds like it really sucks. If they give you a big allowance, you should definitely let them buy you a couch.”

And then like I’m possessed, I step closer to his body and grab the back of his neck and plant a kiss on his lips. It’s not timid and shy but forceful, like I can use my mouth to show him how well he deserves to be treated.

Maybe he likes my demonstration, because he picks me up and crushes me to him, our mouths fused together. Blood rushes through my veins, liquid heat pooling in my core. It’s not the kind of kiss that’s appropriate for a furniture store—is that a thing?—and it’s not long before a throat clears behind us.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

I step away from Evan, my cheeks hot, and stare at the linoleum floor. Busted.

A store employee, nametag reading Debbie, crosses her arms over her ample bosom and glares down her nose at us. Which shouldn’t be possible since she’s even shorter than me, but she radiates disapproval.

Evan doesn’t bat an eye. “Yes. I’d like to buy this couch.”

He wanders over to the massive gray sectional, plops himself down in the middle like a king, and spreads his arms across the back. He gives Debbie a smug grin and then pats the spot next to him. “It’s comfy. Come test it out with me.”

I raise a brow as Debbie bristles, probably wondering how exactly we want to test it, but I’m drawn to his side like a magnet. Sitting, I wiggle around—he’s right, it’s perfect—and he hauls me closer so our thighs are pressed together.

Debbie frowns, and Evan’s grin widens. “Yep, it’s great. We’ll take it.”

“I’ll start the paperwork, sir,” she says through clenched teeth before stalking off.

I hold in my giggles until she’s out of earshot.

“Were you trying to be an asshole?” I whisper.

“Kinda.” Evan shrugs. “But she was a prude.”

“I think that’s probably what we deserved.” Twisting my hands in my lap, I stare down at them as my cheeks heat at the memory. “Public indecency is frowned upon.”

His blue eyes intensify as he bends his head towards mine. “If you think that was indecent, you haven’t seen much.”

He’s going to kiss me again—and god, I want him to—but I hold up my palm in front of his face.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Have you forgotten who my dad is?”

“Yes.” He backs off and runs his fingers through his hair. “And also yes. I seem to forget everything when you’re around. Except how much I like you.”

“I like you, too.” The confession is a weight off my chest. “But I just don’t know…”