Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,26

the door and in my car, I was down the road and shifting like I was playing Grand Theft Auto. The car ate up the miles as I made stop after stop.

“Wonder Sleeps Here”—Twin Atlantic

The knock on my door at ten o’clock at night had alarm bells going off in my head. It was too late for anyone in my family. Everyone except for Crimson had left about an hour ago. And God love them, I was so glad to get them out of the tiny house. They’d fussed and hovered so much, I’d gotten claustrophobic.

“I’ll get it,” my sister said as she set her book on the coffee table and stood. I watched as she walked to the door.

“Look through the window first! It could be a crazy!” I whisper-shouted. She looked over her shoulder, blonde waves framing her face.

“What kind of crazies would be out here this time of night?” she calmly questioned.

“Exactly! I’ve seen enough scary movies to make me question, whereas you blindly open the door to a serial killer!”

“Really?”

“Hey! It could happen, and there you’d be, the dumb girl in the movie that lets the killer waltz in!”

She blinked at me as if she had no words. Then she shook her head and peeked through the curtains on the door. “Bleu, you need to quit watching those stupid movies.” She chuckled and opened the door. Much to my disbelief, Cameron stood on the porch. Inwardly, I groaned. Not only did I look like shit while my sister looked stunning in her fitted thermal pajamas, I hadn’t gotten over my mortification at being so clumsy.

“Hey. You must be Crimson,” he said, and I basked in the rich timbre of his voice for a moment. I had no idea when his voice had become like music to me, but it had.

“That I would be, and you’re the hockey player trying to get in my sister’s pants,” Crimson saucily replied. His eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped.

Nervously, I watched their interaction from the couch. The dread in my guts churned.

This is it. This is where he falls for my sister.

Resigned to accept the fact that we were over before we started, I was shocked to realize he not once looked beyond her face. Then my breath caught in my chest when his pale eyes found mine, and my face heated.

“Bleu.”

Is it my imagination, or is his voice breathlessly needy?

The second Crimson moved back, he walked in and came straight to me. Blinking, I stared at all the stuff he had in his hands that I hadn’t paid attention to when he was at the door.

“I brought you some things.”

“I see that,” I said with my brows trying to crawl into my hairline. “Did you buy out H-E-B?”

He chuckled. “No. But concussions are something I know a little bit about.”

There must’ve been ten bags on his arms that he fought to get off and set on the coffee table.

“You’re supposed to minimize things that make your brain work—TV, books, phones, all that kind of stuff. So I made a few stops to get you things to relax and stay healthy.” He promptly began unloading all the bags, which I realized weren’t all from the grocery store.

He set a small case of bougie-ass bottles of water, protein shakes, protein bars, healthy snacks, a bottle of Tylenol, and a whole slew of aromatherapy stuff on the tabletop. Then he straightened.

“Be right back,” he jogged outside and came back with balloons, flowers, and a fluffy stuffed cat. When he set them down and gingerly placed the cat in my lap, I chuckled, then winced at the pounding in my head it caused.

“It’s y’all’s mascot,” I said, running my hand over the velvety faux fur of the Amur leopard and his tiny team jersey. “Thank you.”

Waiting patiently, he stood with his hands shoved deep in his worn jeans I’d admired earlier on the ice. They were artfully frayed and fit his powerful thighs snugly. My gaze traveled up, and my face flamed as I inadvertently paused at the significant bulge in his jeans. The rest of his body didn’t help though. He was sexy as hell, and he didn’t have to try.

“I didn’t know you’d have someone with you. And I was worried about you being alone, so I wanted to stop by to check on you.”

My mouth went dry at the strong column of his throat and the scruff on his chiseled jaw. Then I found myself drowning in the pools