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“Miss Rot in Hell but Do It With a Pair of Gloves So Your Hands Don’t Get Cold.”
My stomach dips. “Greed is a sin, Donovan.” “Then you’re my temptation, Sierra,” he says.
deep voice serenade us while we hold each other like we’re not two complicated people with bad luck. Like we’re just two college kids, dancing on a porch.
Sierra: Why is your entire hockey team following me on social media? Dylan: Because they’re nosy idiots.
Dylan: No. I think about you. Sierra: You’re thinking? Big day for you then. Dylan: Brat. Sierra: Asshole.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she says. “I’m giving it to you anyway.”
“Yeah?” A smirk tugs at my lips. I lean in, my gaze fixed on hers as I take a bite of the energy bar still in her grip. She bristles. I chew.
“That’s it? You’re not going to challenge me on it? Shit, Romanova, I expected you to make me say sorry.” She’s so stuck on pleasing others, she’d choke on it. “You want me to fight you on this?”
“Come on. Argue with me.” “You can’t be serious.” I glide right up to her, invading her space. “Fight me, Sierra.”
“You couldn’t save yourself for marriage if you tried.” Fucking feels like that’s exactly what I’m doing. “Are you trying to tempt me?” “You’d know if I was trying to tempt you, Dylan,” she says. “And you wouldn’t last a second.”
“Wanna bet?” She shakes her head. “I like bets that make me work for it.” “I can make you work for it, Sierra. For as long as you want. As hard as you want.”
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” A slight tremor runs through her. “Me too,” she whispers.
but I only want one pair of eyes on me. And they’re definitely not blue.
I don’t trust him to do anything remotely sane in this situation, but I’m not thinking straight right now.
“Could you be more creepy?” she says. I fight a smile. “I could.”
“I don’t think Ajay would like that.” “I don’t give a fuck what he’d like.”
“Hey, man, is that your car that’s on fire?” Kian interrupts the awkwardness.
I love him 🤧
“You’re a dick.” “And yet, here you are.”
“You shouldn’t be rewarded for your behavior.” “Just punish me for it later. Any way you like.” I grin.
“It’s a onetime offer, princess—ow!” Sierra jumps and puts her hands over mine on my throbbing biceps. The girl can punch; I should have known.
“Casual,” I repeat, even though that word burns my esophagus.
She steals my breath straight from my lungs, and for a second I wish I could drop dead. That way this is the last thing I’d feel.
The kiss silences every ache in my body. If I thought I was losing my mind before, it’s eviscerated now. I could walk on water.
“Does this make us friends?” she asks in a playful whisper. I could be best friends with her tits. “You wanna be friends?”
I would drag this one kiss into eternity if she let me.
How is it possible that I want to wring his throat, but also kiss it?
With the way he’s staring at me, you’d think I was made from pure gold.
“Huh, that’s new,” he murmurs. “You have nothing to say.” “It’s a smiley face.” “Oh good, I didn’t think you were going to figure it out.”
“There is no one else,” he says, voice low and firm. “I’m the only one with you on that ice, Sierra. Got it?”
“But only if you promise to manhandle me like that again. Perfect spank bank material.” “You need a spank bank?” “Where you’re concerned, absolutely.”
“STARING AT MY ass the entire routine isn’t going to help you perform better,” I say. “How would you know that? Maybe it’s exactly the kind of motivation I need.”
“Fine, it’s your turn. I’ll watch your ass and see how you feel.” He balks, a hand on his chest. “Save the dirty talk for the bedroo...
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she’s not the kind of girl that’s going to let you hold her hand.” “I know,” I say. “But I’m going to anyway.”
“Can’t help it,” I say, a grin tugging at my lips. “I’ve never seen someone who’s threatened to slit my throat blush this much.” “Must be an allergic reaction,” she mutters, her palms flying up to press against her cheeks.
“Sierra.” “I know, they’re ugly.” “Sierra.” My name falls off his lips like it’s painful to say. His eyes darken like he can’t fathom I just said that.
“This?” He runs his hand along the jagged scar like it’s something precious. “This scar is the reason you’re here right now. With me. There isn’t a single thing about you that’s ugly.”
He stares up at me with a wicked smile. “Just let me be on my knees for you, Sierra. I know that’s where you’ve always wanted me anyway.”
“You’re so pretty when you beg, Sierra. You should do it more often.” “Don’t let it get to your head, Donovan,” I force the words through gritted teeth. “It already has, baby.”
“You are so much more than your scars.” He presses a kiss on the scar on my head. “So much more.”
“It’s two degrees. Why is your shirt off?” she asked. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” “Put on a goddamn shirt, Donovan.”
“Only if you put it on me.” “Grow up.” “I’m plenty grown. Want me to show you?”
“Okay, then why did you put four slices of bread in the toaster and take out two plates?” I look back at the toaster and realize what I’ve done. He tuts. “Making food for a girl that’s not here. Like I said, you’re whipped, Dill Pickle.”
“Yeah, thanks to her romance books.” He aims a pointed look at Summer. “I think I need to adopt a cat.”
He’s wearing a gray Carhartt hoodie and black pants, both a little wet from the rain that hasn’t stopped since last night.
No words pass between us as Dylan stretches his legs way past mine and stares up at the ceiling. We lie on the floor together like this is normal. Like he didn’t make me see stars in this very room just a week ago.
“Oh yeah, Dale Thunderman is exactly my type.” “Bald?” “Charming.” “You must love me, then.”
“But then I wouldn’t get to see your face. And all the little wrinkles you get in between your eyebrows and around your eyes when you glare at me. It’s extremely attractive.”
I scrunch my face away when he tries to boop my nose.
Especially when his pinkie curls around mine. “I’d still perform,” he says. “While you’re injured?” “For you, I would.”
“I’m assuming you didn’t come here to lie on the floor with me,” I say. “Maybe I did.”
