Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,21

laundry.”

“Oh, well, do you think you could get away for a few hours in the afternoon?” Mentally crossing my fingers, I stood there.

Hesitation was evident in her inability to answer right away. Then she surprised me again when she nodded. “Yeah, I think I could do that. What time, and what should I wear?”

It was impossible to keep my smile hidden. We worked out the details, and I stepped over the threshold. As I passed her, she grabbed my hand, sending shockwaves up my arm like I’d been electrocuted.

“About the kitchen… I hope you didn’t get the wrong impression,” she vaguely stated, and I wondered exactly what she was saying.

“What do you mean?” I asked as I breathed in the cold night air.

“Just that I’m not—I don’t know. Never mind,” she quietly replied.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I finally said. A shy smile curved her plush lips.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” The smile widened. When I descended the steps, it was with a light heart and excitement building. Between the win and knowing I’d see Bleu again tomorrow for an actual date, I was ecstatic, and I likely wouldn’t get much sleep that night.

“Perfect”—Ed Sheeran

When Cameron picked me up in his truck, he still refused to tell me where we were going. Since he’d told me to dress warm and we were in his truck, I assumed we were doing something outside. I was wrong.

“What are we doing here?” I nervously asked when he pulled up at what looked like a small sports complex.

“You’ll see,” he evasively answered me with a teasing grin. It struck me how handsome he was when he smiled. He had a single dimple that popped, and it was so cute. His ice-blue eyes lit and crinkled at the corners.

And those lips.

Damn those hypnotic lips. The sensations of that kiss the night before flooded me, and I completely lost my nervousness because it was all I could think about. A tingle tightened up my core, and a needy shudder shook me from head to toe.

I was so lost in those memories, I missed him getting out of the truck and grabbing a big bag from the back until he was knocking on my window. “You coming?” he asked through the glass.

Nervous again, I jumped down from the truck. He grabbed my hand as we started toward the entrance. His touch gave me a jolt to my heart, and I inhaled sharply.

“Come on,” he urged, excitement bleeding through in his voice.

When we entered the building, I groaned. “What are we doing here?”

“Have you ever ice skated before?” he asked.

A snort of laughter escaped me. “Uh, that would be a no.”

“Then I’m going to teach you to skate,” he said, barely able to control his glee as I stared at him in horror.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I exclaimed as he dragged me by my hand to the counter, where he snagged the waiting pair of skates. A guy came from the back room and gave him a friendly wave.

“It’s yours for the next hour,” the guy said with a smile.

“Perfect,” Cameron said as he pulled me into the cold walkway around the ice rink. If I hadn’t been so stunned, I might’ve dug my heels in and protested. Instead, I let him lead me over to the benches like a lamb to slaughter.

Mute and wide-eyed, I sat while he laced up the skates he pulled out of the massive bag. It was big enough that I wondered if he had a dead body in there. Maybe mine would fit when I died of the heart attack I could feel coming.

When he finished and saw I hadn’t put my skates on, he frowned. “You need to get your skates on,” he said.

A choking sound escaped me as I stared at him. “Cameron. You must be out of your mind. I can’t skate.”

“Well, I’m going to teach you,” he said as if it was that simple. The muscles of his arms and shoulders drew my attention as he leaned down to reach into the magic bag again. The man was built like a brick shithouse, I’d give him that. In his moisture-wicking compression shirt, every ripple of lean muscle was emphasized. It had me wondering what he looked like naked.

That startled me, and I blinked rapidly. He had some kind of magic power over me, and it was strange as hell. No matter how adamant I’d been that hockey players were arrogant assholes, he was steadily weaseling his way into my