“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“You know what? No,” I snap at him, swinging my right leg over the bench so I’m straddling the cold metal, staring at Rhodes. I poke him hard in the chest.
“Ow, what the hell,” he gripes.
“No. You don’t get to be moody about it. This,” I gesture between us, “isn’t anything. It’s skating.Maybefriends. That’s it.”
“Friends,” he huffs out sharply. “Okay, Monroe. Pretty sure friends don’t feel this way about each other, though.”
I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. He leans in closer, and now we’re playing chicken. I don’t move this time. My eyes narrow in a glare. “That’s a you problem, then, because I don’t feel anything.”Lie.
He tilts his head at me, trying to decide how to respond to me.
A decision made, he leans forward. “Tell me no, then,” he whispers. His hand lifts to gently grip my neck, thumb swiping against my pulse point, tugging me forward. “Use your words to tell me no, sweetheart, and I’ll stop.”
I swallow, feeling his fingers flex around my throat. Fire burns in my core, molten. I’m suddenly way too hot, considering I’m sitting in an ice arena set to forty-eight degrees.
He closes the distance between us, lips skating the corner of my mouth. I suck in a breath. “You’re such a brat, Monroe,” he murmurs. “I can feel your heart racing. I’m giving you one more chance. Tell me no. If I’m dead wrong, and you don’t want this, I’ll stop.”
I say nothing. That says everything.
I close the millimeter of distance myself. Rhodes doesn’t need any more permission than that. His tongue begs for entrance into my mouth and I let him in. My fingers reach out to grip his shirt and a groan escapes him. It’s nearly my undoing. One hand moves to curl around the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His other hand curls around my braid, giving a slow,firm tug. A gasp catches in my throat, my body jolting forward—closer.
I move my fists from his shirt and run them up over his shoulders. They’re broad and strong, years of honing his athlete’s body. His hands untangle from my hair and haul me up onto his lap.
We pull apart just for a moment, foreheads together, breathing heavy, then his lips are back on my skin, burning a path down my jaw and over my neck. I’m trying not to grind on top of him, needing the friction I know he could provide.
“Such. A. Brat.” He punctuates each word with another kiss. An indecent moan leaves my throat when his hands brush from hips and rib cage, thumbs caressing the sides of my breasts. “Let me do something about that attitude,” he growls, and I whimper. “I could make you feel so good. When was the last time someone made you feel good, Monroe?”
I feel his length harden against my core, and it’s threatening to send me over the edge. My hips grind into him of their own volition, and I give in to the heady temptation that is Rhodes. I need to shut this down. I need to get out of here before I make a bad decision. A really bad decision.
I pant, slowing our manic kisses and take a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Come home with me,” Rhodes murmurs against my cheek. His breath is still uneven. He swallows, like maybe he knows this is a little bit reckless too.
The words roll over me, inviting and heavenly and so, so dangerous.
I pull back, sliding off his lap, closing my eyes. “I’m not in a good place yet, Rhodes.”
He sighs, scrubbing a hand down his jaw. “Everyone is a work in progress,” he says.
I’m quiet while I contemplate how to make him understand that I am not girlfriend material. I’m barelypersonmaterial right now. Mere weeks ago, I was blackout drunk in someone’s basement. But there is a tiny, selfish part of me that doesn’t want to let go of him completely now that I’ve had a taste.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper.
“I’m a grown-up, Monroe. I am fully capable of making decisions for myself. Don’t shut this down before it has a chance to be something.”
“Let’s just…” I hesitate. “Can we just slow down? Every single thing in my life is new and moving at Mach speed right now. Can this just…not?”
His eyes are soft, contemplating my words.
“Slow,” he repeats, testing the words. Then, after a pause, “For now.”
“Maybe forever. I don’t know. I don’t know where I’ll be in a day, let alone longer than that.”
He nods, slow and deliberate. “Okay, Monroe.”
“Okay?” My answer comes out as more of a question.