“In plays,” she clarifies. “If you’re pretending to be in love. Acting, I mean.”
“Ah. Sure, sometimes. I’ve played a few romantic roles, not in plays with the kids obviously, but before. There was a kiss or two.”
“Right. Part of the act.”
I eye her. “Why?”
She pauses mid-step and says, far too innocently, “I was just thinking…we might need to. You and I.”
My heart stutters.
She keeps her gaze forward. “If someone suspects us. Thinks we’re not affectionate enough. You said people notice things. We should be prepared.”
“Prepared,” I echo, because that’s apparently the only word left in my vocabulary.
“We’re alone,” she points out.
Okay…
I should say something witty. Clever.
I can’t feel my feet.
“I…right now?”Come on, brain.
Aaaand…. Nothing.
She nods. Steps closer. “Like this?”
Storms below. This is happening.
“A little closer,” I whisper, lifting a hand to her neck.
Her face tilts tantalizingly near. Her snowy-fresh smell fills my senses.
I sway. Closer still.
She’s right there, leaning in to meet me.
And I kiss her.
Her lips are cold yet soft, and they warm swiftly beneath mine. The forest drops away, leaving nothing but this roaring inside me that saysyes, this.
It’s not just a brush. It’s sudden. And breathtaking.
Her hands creep up my chest, spreading warmth like flame. So much for ice magic. She’s pure heat.
Her lips part, and I lose control of my limbs. My hands find her waist and neck, tilting her head back, deepening the kiss, like I could melt us together if we could just getcloser. She tastes of wintermint, and feels like home.
When we part, she stares at me like I’ve said her real name out loud. And maybe I’ve given something away without meaning to.
“…Well,” she says, breath catching. “You are…rather good at that.”
“Could use more practice,” I murmur.
“Yes. Right. We should practice.”
Because I can, I kiss her one more time. Gentler this time. A soft promise, full of the spark of wonder I feel.
