The Mix-Up (Southern Hearts Club #3) - Melanie Munton Page 0,78
out how to skate on your feet and not your ankles, it’s pretty fun.”
I scowl down at my ankles that won’t seem to straighten. “I don’t foresee myself ever converting.”
“That’s because you hate not being good at everything.”
“Says the over-achieving perfectionist.”
His expression takes on a wistful quality I don’t know how to interpret. White puffs billow in front of his mouth as he breathes in the frigid night air. “It doesn’t really pay to be an under-achiever, does it? Don’t worry, there are plenty of things I’m bad at.”
“Name one.”
“Have you ever seen my cursive handwriting? It’s atrocious.”
I tip my head back and laugh. The movement sends me wobbling, and I frantically clutch onto his arm like a drowning cat. “Well, thank God for that. The mystery of whether or not Ryder Colson is actually human is finally solved.”
“A super breed of human,” he corrects. “I’m in my own special category, wouldn’t you agree? After all, you’ve seen me naked.”
“You might have a point, considering the size of your di—”
I’m jostled from behind and knocked against Ryder. We both slip off balance as my skates slide out from under me. Luckily, he has enough wherewithal to make a mad grab for the nearby wall and manages to hold us both upright with his vice-like grip on my waist.
“Sorry, my bad!” the passing skater who bumped me yells.
“The Winter Olympics aren’t until next year, Apolo!” I shout back. Some of the people skating by laugh.
Ryder hasn’t let go of me.
With his arms cinched tightly around me, we look like two lovers embracing. I stare into his dark blue eyes that are looking at me so intimately, I feel myself sinking into their bottomless, dark depths. My cheeks are ice-cold, my nose probably a rosy red. The tips of my fingers went numb a long time ago. But the heat of that look makes it feel like I’m sweating nakedly in a sauna.
Our mouths come together at the same time, as if an invisible string connected them and pulled us in. Somehow, his lips aren’t freezing cold from the Antarctic temperatures. They’re warm and firm and fit seamlessly against mine. The kiss isn’t frantic like so many others have been. It’s passionate, yet tender. And deep.
And I’m not just talking about the level of tongue involved.
There’s a feeling of wild, uninhibited desperation to this kiss.
You’d think we’ve never done this before. That we’ve never slept together. Hell, never even touched. Because we’re going at each other like nothing that’s happened before has been enough. Almost like a reset button was hit, and the night at my place never even happened. We’re greedy for more and have reached our limits waiting for it.
I guess my whole “business only” speech was a bunch of bologna. Mixed signals doesn’t begin to cover my erratic behavior.
My breathing is shaky by the time we come up for air. It feels like the train we’ve been riding on is barreling toward something life-altering, something terrifying. Knowing my luck, the track is about to run out and we’re careening straight for a canyon where we’ll plummet to our deaths.
Translation from Gretchen to English: I’m falling for this guy. Hard.
Please. You’re already flattened to a pancake at the bottom of that canyon. Lying deader than a doornail.
“I think you might be turning me into a believer,” I whisper.
“A believer of what?”
“Fairytales.”
His upper lip curls. “Happily ever afters are possible outside of princesses and castles, duchess. You can have one of your own without believing in dragons and magic.”
“You’re making it difficult to argue with that.”
“Stay in my room tonight,” he breathes against my tingling lips.
“No.”
His body deflates, frustration tightening his mouth.
I smile. “But you can stay in mine.”
My hotel room door clicks shut behind us. Sealing us inside this space. Just the two of us. With the rest of the world on the other side of these walls. No one to interrupt, interfere, or judge us. We can do absolutely whatever we want.
I’ve never been more terrified and oddly at ease at the same time.
It’s a strange, drugging combination.
Ryder’s long strides eat up the distance between us. His hands cup my cheeks. “Give me all of you tonight, Gretchen. Throw everything else out the window and just be here with me. Let me have the real you.”
“I thought I already did that.”
I let him sleep in my bed, for crying out loud.
He tucks my hair behind my ear. “You know you didn’t. I felt you holding back.” He shakes his