I stare at my glass for a beat longer than necessary, letting the words settle.
“Isabella—”
Her knee presses into mine, just a fraction more, and I’m so, so aware of how carefully she’s calibrated all of this, how she hasn’t touched me with her hands or leaned in too close or even given anyone else in the room a clear story to tell.
She’s letting me decide what this is.
Which is unfair in a completely different way.
“You’re very good at this,” I say, watching her.
“Well,” she replies, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly, “you make it easy.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She watches my face closely and doesn’t answer right away. Her smile deepens, slow and unapologetic. Across theroom, Nina glances over and raises an eyebrow, clearly clocking the proximity. Isabella doesn’t look back.
“I mean,” she says quietly, eyes moving to my mouth again. She licks her lips, and something flutters deep in my core. “You’re sitting here pretending you don’t know exactly what effect you have on me.”
I take a deep breath and let that settle, and I don’t move an inch of my body.
We sit there for another minute, knees still pressed together, conversation drifting back to safer ground without ever fully leaving the dangerous part behind.
Eventually, Isabella glances back at her table, where Nina is now very obviously watching her.
“I should go,” she says.
I nod. “Probably, yeah.”
She stands, letting her knee slide away from mine slowly, deliberately, like she’s making a point of the loss.
Before she turns, she leans in just enough that only I can hear her.
“I’m not confused about this,” she declares. “I’m just careful.”
Then she’s gone, back to her table, back to her world.
I sit at the bar for another minute and finish my too-warm drink. I signal for the check, and the whole time I’m aware how the fine line I thought I was skirting has already been crossed.
CHAPTER 13
CECILIA
“What time didyou get in last night?” Rodrigo asks, one shoulder lifting casually as he shuffles on the ice. He’s been running laps for a few hours, and I’m guessing he’s a little bored at this point because his eyes are shiny and his smile is sneaky.
“¿Qué te importa?” I reply, looking at my watch. “Again.”
He pushes off with exaggerated obedience, skating a lazy loop before cutting back towards me, clearly not expending anywhere near the amount of effort I asked for.
“You went out,” he says.
“Enfocate.”
“Iamfocused.”
I don’t look at him. “On skating.”
“And on you.”
