Page 106 of Icebound

She tangles her fingers in my hair, and we start exploring like we're on a mission to learn everything about each other’s mouths. Nina kisses me back with a ferocity that would be intimidating if I weren't already unhinged.

We can't seem to stop.

It's like neither of us wants this moment to end, but we know it will. Her leg trembles. So does mine. I love that I'm the reason she's shaking, so I start trying new things to make it happen again.

Pulling.

Sucking.

Biting.

I do that last one a lot.

I've never kissed anyone this wildly before. We're messy and dirty and hell, even a little sloppy, but all of that makes it the best goddamn kiss of my life. I can’t get enough of this girl, and that scares the shit out of me because I have to let her go.

I bet she’s going to fuck me up forever.

We eventually run out of air.

I pull back, panting as I press my forehead to hers. “I'm glad I waited so long to kiss you.”

She frowns. “Why’s that?”

I kiss her again and again and again. “Because I knew once I did, I wouldn't be able to stop.”

And dammit, I have to stop.

25

NINA

The days melt into weeks, and the weeks blossom into April.

With finals around the corner, students on campus exchange their parkas for short sleeves, and the Guardians are right on the cusp of making it to the playoffs, which fuels the intensity of the entire team.

I’m lucky to catch glimpses of Rhode in person rather than on a screen with his hectic schedule, but I do have a drawer at his apartment, and he keeps a toothbrush in my bathroom. Our relationship is quickly spiraling from casual to serious, and the thought of saying goodbye is terrifying.

I can feel myself falling into the abyss of love.

The distance does nothing to dampen my feelings for him. If anything, it makes me yearn for more nights spent cuddling in bedsheets.

Rhode’s a secret snuggler.

I call his massive body my personal space heater, and he rolls his eyes, but I can tell he’s trying not to smile because I’ve memorized all the nuances of him.

Nights aren’t all I crave, though. I want Rhode’s Saturday mornings and all the mundane moments in between, but the only thing I get most days is his sleepy smile on a screen.

I stare at him enough that I can draw his chiseled features with my eyes closed, but he’s gone so much that the sound of his laughter is fading from my memories. I desperately want to remember the smoky timbre for when our lives veer in opposite directions.

I lurch up from the bar stool, screaming at the giant TV on the brick wall. “Come on, that was a penalty, ref! Are you sleeping? Open your eyes!”

“Hey!” the bartender shouts, flicking a towel over his shoulder. “No yelling in my bar. How many times do I have to warn you, Alstyne? I’m kicking you out if it happens again.”

“If you want me out, you’ll have to throw me out, Bart,” I say to the gray-haired bartender, who only ever smiles at his seven-year-old son. “This game decides if they’re going to the playoffs. It’s a big deal for my boys.”

My boys.

He grumbles to himself behind the counter, pulling one of the sixty beer taps for a customer. The man’s harmless. He’s all threats and no follow-through.