He shakes his head with a sigh, marching in the opposite direction and slamming his door.
“Boy, he’s grumpy today.” Maddie laughs, tossing some clothes aside.
“Yeah, I don’t think he likes me much.” I scratch at my head.
“Who does?” She snorts.
“Someone thought I was okay last night.” I flash her a crooked grin, eyes roaming around her room. “Even if I missed her this morning.”
Posters of Ireland from when Maddie studied abroad litter the white walls, and twinkling lights and vines hang through the room. Her desk is organized and warm; unlike mine, I get the sense that it’s used for its intended purpose.
“Sorry.” She flushes. “I had to study for a test, and I didn’t trust you not to talk me out of it.” She attempts to pull her shirt off, but her head gets stuck in the hole. “A little help.”
I walk over and free her. She smiles, pressing a quick kiss to my lips and flashing an intoxicating smile. “I have to go,” she says, grabbing another shirt and tossing it on.
Right.
I cup her face, greeting her mouth with a soft, toe-curling kiss. A faint whisper of hot chocolate wraps around my taste buds as my tongue plunders and explores. I don’t know how much time I have before she falls for Connor, but I’m fucking addicted to her at this point. I pull away, smirking as she runs her fingers along her lips and furrows her brows in confusion.
There’s some time left. I might as well enjoy it.
Chapter ten
Frosty the Snowman
Maddie
“Pleasedon’tpushthelittle children.” My hoarse voice carries through the frosty air, falling over the ice pond. A ruddy-nosed man rolls his eyes, still skating aggressively, and weaving through the packs of unsteady children. I’ve had to ask impatient adults not to knock past the tiny tots far too many times over the past week.
It’s frustrating. And the cold is biting. And most of the time, I don’t understand why anyone would willingly live in a place where the air hurts your face.
But sometimes, I understand it even if I don’t care to admit it.
Quiet times like these, when the stars seem to shine a little closer, maybe even a little brighter in the cloudless night sky. And a soft, fresh blanket of snow drifts to the ground.
White lights twinkle against the dark expanse, strung through the overgrown balsam fir trees that line the edge of the skating rink. In the distance, smoke from the wood fire burning in the main barn rises in the air, the smell of charred wood carrying on the wings of a subtle breeze, warming my lungs and soul, as I stand against the ice skates rental hut, clutching my third hot chocolate of the day.
This job is great for people-watching.
In general, I dislike people, sure, but I don’t know. Something about this environment brings out the best in people.
There’s a vulnerability involved with skating for the first time, and the couples attempting to skate together are my favorite. One of them wobbles like Bambi learning to walk, while the other is strong and supportive, flanking their side. Like they’re telling their partner that even when they don’t know what they’re doing, and things look ugly, they’ve still got them.
They’ll be there.
And there’s something gorgeous about that.
I don’t know if I’m capable of that kind of vulnerability, but I’m suddenly yearning to be a person who risks the fall.
With a smile, I hum along to the love song disguised as a holiday tune playing over the speakers wired to a few trees around the pond and wipe down a pair of rental skates just returned to the little hut. After a week of work, I’ve fallen into a comfortable routine here, walk to the back counter, wipe down and spray disinfectant on the skates, then pivot and put them in their allotted cubicle under the checkout counter, and grab a sip of hot chocolate.
Tonight’s has a peppermint swirl because I’m adventurous like that.
With a final swipe of the cloth, I turn to put them away.
A small but imposing figure stands ready to pounce on the other side of the counter. A deadly, cutting glare narrowed on my face.
“Jesus, Jenny, stealth much?” I put my hand on my heart. “You startled me.”
