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Aria felt Hallbjorn’s balance shift as he bent his knee and placed his foot on the inside of his thigh. She did the same, pressing her hand into Hallbjorn’s. Instead of leaving his hand limp against her palm, as the instructors and the other couples in the room were doing, he laced his fingers with hers and squeezed.
“Thaaaat’s right.” Jesus Beard’s eyes were closed. “Feel the energy. Feel your equality. You are two trees in nature, holding one another up.”
“This is a lot like your Solstice rituals, no?” Hallbjorn asked.
Aria giggled. “Next they’re going to ask us to run naked up South Street.”
Hallbjorn raised his eyebrows. “I’d do it if you would.”
It took everything in Aria’s power not to blush.
“Now we’re going to move into the double straddle.” Santa Hat lowered her bent knee to the ground. “This really helps you and your partner get over all sensitivities and insecurities with one another. Sit on your mats. Open your legs in a V, face each other, and hold hands. Just like this.”
The instructors moved into the pose. Both of them were extremely limber; their legs jackknifed into two nearly perfect splits. They inched forward toward one another until their groins were practically touching.
Aria giggled nervously. Hallbjorn was already stretching his legs into a straddle. Aria did the same, then grabbed Hallbjorn’s hands. Slowly, they pulled each other closer together, leaning forward so that their faces almost touched. Aria caught Hallbjorn’s eye and didn’t look away. Hallbjorn didn’t either.
She flattened her spine, inched forward, and touched her lips to his. His mouth was warm and firm and tasted like honey. And for the first time in months, she didn’t think about Ezra or Ali or A at all.
Chapter 6
Sound the Alarms
“Remember this picture?” Aria held up her laptop and pointed to a photo she’d uploaded of her and Hallbjorn standing at the edge of Laugardal, one of Reykjavík’s biggest public pools. Snow was flurrying all around them, sticking to their bare skin. In Iceland, outdoor public pools remained open all year round because they were geothermally heated. “That place had the scariest waterslide ever!”
“You were such a wimp.” Hallbjorn poked her. “All those kids were waiting behind you in the freezing cold, begging you to take your turn.”
“I know, I know.” Aria winced at the memory. She’d been too scared to slide down the enormous waterslide, turning around and walking down the wooden staircase instead.
It was Christmas evening, and they were snuggled under the covers of Aria’s bed. This had definitely turned into Aria’s best Christmas ever. Hallbjorn was an even better kisser than she remembered, and for the last twenty minutes, he’d been rubbing the kinks out of her neck, which made her shudder with glee and never want to leave this room for the rest of her life.
Aria flipped to the next picture and burst out laughing. “The ponies!” It was a photo of Hallbjorn’s Icelandic horses, Fylkir and Fyra. Aria was on Fylkir, the shorter, fatter, and more docile of the two, but there was still a terrified look on her face. Hallbjorn was next to her on Fyra, who was the color of cinnamon and had giant nostrils.
“You made me go along that steep cliff on our first ride,” Aria scolded Hallbjorn. “I could have killed you. I was so sure we were going to fall over the edge.”
“Icelandic ponies are sure-footed,” Hallbjorn protested.
“Well, I didn’t believe you at the time.” Aria looked at her younger self in the picture. “It’s no wonder my brother was afraid of them. They look so small and untrustworthy.”
Hallbjorn burst out laughing. “Mike was afraid of Icelandic horses?”
Aria slid lower under the covers. Oops. That was one of Mike’s biggest secrets. “Uh, forget I said that.”
“Who’s this guy?” Hallbjorn scrolled to another picture on the laptop. Aria’s photos were in no particular order, and the next shot was of Noel Kahn at one of Ali’s seventh-grade parties. Aria had covertly taken the photo, peeking around the corner and pressing the shutter when she knew Noel wasn’t looking. Ali had teased her mercilessly when she’d found out Aria had camera-stalked him.
“Oh, that’s someone I used to like before I moved to Iceland,” Aria said nonchalantly.
“I think you told me about him.” Hallbjorn stared hard at Noel’s image. “Alison stole him from you, right?”
“He was never mine to steal.” Aria peered at Noel’s image. He was wearing his lucky University of Pennsylvania Nike lacrosse shirt—typical. “Besides, every guy was into Alison. I thought it was mean of her to go out with him, though. She knew I liked him.” Worse, Ali had gone out with Noel for only one date before dumping him. It felt to Aria like she’d done it just to prove she could get any guy she wanted—or any guy Aria wanted.
He propped himself up on one elbow. “He was an idiot to pass up the chance to date you. You’re so amazing. I cared a lot about Anja, but I never forgot about you. You were my first love.”
“Love?” Aria squeaked, the word almost palpable in the air around them.
Two pink splotches appeared on Hallbjorn’s cheeks. “Yes, love.”
Suddenly, a twig snapped outside the window, followed by a peal of laughter. Aria slid off the bed and parted the curtains. The night sky was hazy. There was a thin, glossy sheet of ice over the snow. Around the perimeter of the property was a set of crisp, fresh boot tracks leading straight to the back door.
