Page 64 of Breaking the Ice

Evan takes a sip and then groans. “Marry me, please?”

“I hate to break it to you, but I already did.”

“Well, now you can never leave me because I can’t live without this hot chocolate. It’s so good.” He smiles over the rim of his mug, and my heart lurches.

What would it take for us to stay married? Is that a real possibility? Does he want that? Do I? Or is it just too crazy to consider?

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

ISABELLA

Ariana: What did you think of that final?

Vanessa: I wish I had spent more time studying articulation. That section tripped me up.

Isabella: It was okay. I’m just excited to be done!

The apartment is quiet when I let myself in after my last final. It’s wild—all my projects are turned in, and my exams are done. Next semester, I have one Capstone class and my student teaching experience—and then I’m finished with college. Crazy.

Groaning, I drop my backpack by the door and wander around the small space. It doesn’t take long. I stretch my arms over my head, trying to work the kinks out of my shoulders after sitting in the exam hall for so long. My brain is mush, and my body’s not much better.

Maybe a hot shower will help my tense muscles relax. Since I’m alone, I don’t bother to close the bathroom door, and I crank up my Hamilton playlist, belting out my favorite songs as steam fills the tiny space. I’m young, scrappy, and hungry, too, Alexander.

I yelp when I hear a noise and peek my head around the flimsy shower curtain. My heart races. The music stops. Evan holds his hands up in surrender, and I exhale.

“Whew, I thought you were an intruder.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I never want to make you feel unsafe.”

“I thought you had plans tonight?”

“I…did something crazy.”

My stomach ties itself in a knot at his words. “Crazier than our Vegas wedding?”

He laughs, breaking the tension. “No, but don’t be mad.”

Before I can ask what I’d be mad about, he pulls a hand out from behind his back and presents me with two tickets, the Hamilton logo front and center. “Merry Christmas.”

I squeal and grope for my towel, wrapping it around myself. “Evan, this is amazing! But I thought we weren’t doing Christmas gifts.”

He shrugs, smiling wide. “Not sure if you know this about me, but I’m terrible at following the rules.”

“When is the show?”

He bites his lip. “Tonight.”

I blink. “Tonight? Where?”

“Chicago.” My mouth drops open, and he rushes on. “But I did the math. It’s a late show, we can make it work.”

Chicago is a two-hour drive from Lafayette, plus or minus about two hours depending on traffic. It’s still early afternoon so I have to hustle, but he’s right, it’s possible.

“Let me just throw on some clothes.” I clinch my towel, then step closer to him. “Actually, there’s one other thing I have to do first.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I trust my knot to hold. I tug his head down to mine, brushing my lips across his. He opens his mouth to me, soft and pliant, and heat flares in my belly. I tangle my tongue with his, pouring all of my thanks into the kiss.