Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,19

how excited he was and how he can’t wait to go back to school to tell everyone about the game in person. He must’ve texted everyone he knew, because his phone buzzed all the way home.”

Sure, I was happy that her brother had enjoyed himself, but the adoration in her eyes when she spoke of him was a beautiful thing. Making her brother happy had made her happy and hell if making her happy didn’t make me happy. That was a whole lotta fucking joy coursing through my veins.

“It was no big deal,” I said, suddenly self-conscious.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

“Please,” I replied as I followed her to the kitchen. The house was small, but well-kept and cozy. My gaze swept the room as we passed through, and I appreciated her style. The brightly colored pillows, tastefully arranged artwork, and the keyboard propped against the wall by the entertainment center all spoke of her passion for music and the arts.

“Is this the original ranch house?” I asked as I took in the painted tin ceiling in the kitchen. Her sparkling eyes flickered in my direction before she set the puck on the counter and went to the fridge.

“Yes. It belonged to my great-great-grandfather,” she offered in reply. “What would you like? I have water, beer, lemonade, or I could make you coffee.”

“Beer is good.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I dug my nails into my palms to keep from reaching for her as she bent to peer into the back. She reached in and produced a Corona. Using an opener she had stuck to the fridge, she popped the top.

“Do you want lime?”

“If you have it. If not, it’s fine like this.”

“What self-respecting Texan has Corona in their house without lime?” she asked as the corner of her mouth quirked up.

Fascinated by her every movement, I watched as she cut a lime into wedges and dumped them in a small bowl. She motioned for me to help myself, and I pulled my hands free from my pockets.

After leaning my hip on the counter, I shoved the lime into the bottle, held my thumb over the end, tipped it, then held it to my mouth to drink the foam it made. The cool liquid hit the spot after the physical game we’d had that night.

As I had the bottle at my lips, I caught her watching me. Her tongue trailed over her bottom lip, and if I wasn’t mistaken, her nipples seemed to peak under her waffle-weave Henley. When she realized I’d seen her, she turned away and grabbed a bottle of water off the counter.

“Congratulations again on the win tonight,” she said before lifting it to take a deep swallow.

“Thank you,” I said, and silence ensued. Without another word, I finished my beer, watching her every move. I wanted to smile at her nervousness, because it told me I affected her. The flush on her cheeks verified my suspicions.

After the last of my drink was gone, I pushed off the counter toward the trash can right as she moved toward the living room. We collided with a huff of exhaled breath and a gasp. My empty beer popped out of my grasp. Instinctively, one hand gripped her arm to steady her and the other snatched the neck of the bottle.

“Talent. Nice hands,” she said on a laughing whisper.

“Yeah,” I drawled out. “My hands are pretty talented.”

Her lips parted, and her kaleidoscope eyes widened as her pupils dilated. We were a hairsbreadth apart as I slowly tipped my head down. There was no way I could stop my movement, but I wouldn’t if I could.

Her lashes fluttered as she tilted her head to kiss me back.

Holy shit. If I’d ever had a kiss like that, I sure as hell didn’t remember it. She was so fucking sweet, and the soft, plush curve of her lips were a perfect fit against my own. Appreciating the moment, I trailed my hand up her arm to curl around the back of her neck.

“Mmm,” she moaned into my mouth as she opened to my teasing tongue. We stroked and tasted, getting lost in the simple swirls and teasing flicks. The electric tingling started at my chest and spread to every cell as my heart raced and flipped.

Afraid to push her too far, I did nothing more than hold her and kiss her like she was my last breath and if I stopped I’d suffocate and die. Happy to go