Page 121 of Break the Ice

“You were born on April 2nd at 1:39 a.m. You majored in public relations and minored in sports management. You once won a hot wing eating competition. You dye your hair red. Amaretto red to be exact.”

I laugh. “I’m not sure whether to be creeped out or turned on you’ve bothered learning all these things.”

“Why not both?” He laughs with me. “You threw up the night Hawk died not because you had a weak stomach for blood, which is what I assumed. You threw up because Hawk slipped you the roofie. You were fine with Blackman’s dead body. Just like you were so calm about taking Gomez out. Never underestimate what a scorned woman would do, right? Isn’t that what you’ve said?”

“I didn’t plan on it,” I say. My mind goes to dark places, all the way back to the night I’d shown up at David’s house after he called me. “He invited me over. I was still in love with him. He said he would leave his wife. We would finally be together.”

“But he was messing with your head again.”

I nod. “It was all lies like it always was. I don’t know what came over me. He just… he dismissed me. He laughed about what he did. How he’d ruined my career and had me so in love with him.” I shudder out a breath from my stilted lungs, remembering the ache so well. “He called me a stupid girl and told me he’d never really wanted me. He was just using me. I just… lost it.”

“And made it look like he offed himself.”

“Authorities were always suspicious. They investigated for months. But they weren’t able to find anything that stuck. His wife moved on quickly—they’d been having marital issues for a long time.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You are?”

“Fuck yes,” he growls, squeezing me closer ‘til my pelvis aligns with his. “A scumbag groomed you and took advantage for years. Then you took him out, made it look like suicide, and got away with it. That’s impressive… and sexy. Just make sure you never pull that on me.”

I smirk at him, a dark and flirtatious edge about me that I’ve never shown anyone but him. “Behave yourself and you’ll never have to worry about it.”

We wake at half past ten and nosh on a bowl of sugary cereal for breakfast. I sit on Rafe’s kitchen counter, holding the bowl up as I spoon a mouthful of milk and marshmallows to my lips. He opts to stand, indulging in the sugary treat too.

And me.

Rafe’s indulging me by even sullying his near-perfect diet with marshmallows and milk that turns strawberry-flavored.

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth—something tells me he went out to the grocery store and specifically bought this box of cereal for me. So he’d have it on hand the next time I spent the night.

He catches wind of my amused thoughts. His features rearrange into a mix of suspicious confusion. His eyes narrow half a millimeter and, if possible, his ears almost perk up. Even his unruly chocolate hair and the ever-stray lock that hangs over his brow match his confused suspicions.

“What’s that smile for?”

I shake my head and spoon another mouthful of cereal. “It’s nothing.”

“Sugar, with you, it’s always something,” he answers. Then he sets his bowl of soggy marshmallows down and prowls over to my spot on his kitchen island. He wedges himself between my legs and plants his fists on either side of me, his knuckles face down in a way that has them resting on the quartz countertop. “Tell me,” he demands. “What’s worth smiling over?”

“You’d think it was silly.”

He leans closer like he’s about to kiss me. He doesn’t even need to bow his head much to do it—using the countertop as my seat has evened out our height difference.

Except, he doesn’t kiss me. He wants my answer first.

“What’s so silly?”

“You bought these for me.”

“I eat marshmallows all the time, Sugar. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s take a look at your real grocery list.”

I slide off the kitchen counter, making him back up, and then move toward his pantry. Prying the cabinets open, I laugh at the vast selection of protein powder, more protein powder, and a box or two of beef jerky and energy bars. I don’t even need to say another word to get my point across.

Rafe grabs me from behind. His arms swath over my hips and he draws me up against his chest. His cheek presses against mine as he ducks his head. “Alright. Cards on the table. I went out and bought the whole fucking aisle of sugary cereal just for you. Don’t go in the hall closet. They’re all stashed in there.”

My laugh refuses to be held back anymore. The light melody escapes from me and makes him squeeze me tighter against him. He drops a kiss to my jaw and then tucks his face into the crook of my neck.