Page 35 of Ice Queen

* It’s okay to make room for someone else

CHAPTER 12

Kaitlyn

“What are your thoughts on marriage of convenience?” He asks.

Hannah and Abby immediately stop their tickle fight, snapping to attention as they wait for my answer.

I lock eyes with Markus, and he gives me a small nod, which I’m taking as confirmation that the ‘Casanova’ stunt was, in fact, an apology. But it's really hard to form a coherent thought when a man who looks like he does is holding a tiny baby. If ovaries could explode over a sight, mine certainly would.

“I… Um.” My nose crinkles as I try to come up with something, but the pause stretches for a beat too long, and my panic flares. It’s not that I don’t have an opinion, but I suddenly want it to be the right one.

The fabric of the couch all of a sudden feels wrong against my skin, and I shift to get away from it, pulling my sleeve over my hand and balling my fists inside.

Markus must notice, because he asks. “In terms of Rhett and Kyla, yay or nay?” The man seems to notice everything.

“Definitely yay.”

It’s honestly one of my favorite tropes. I think that stems from the fairy tales my mom read to me as a kid. Sure, I wanted to be the one who didn’t need Prince Charming to save her. But I loved that the Prince always fell so madly in love that he couldn’t get up from the floor if he wanted to.

“I think it works for some, but not for all. But I like the idea, I like it when it plays out.” I pause, squirming in my seat a bit. “But I also like when it doesn’t, and the person she’s promised to is awful. Then the good guy sweeps in and carries her away.”

I purposely don’t meet his gaze as I say that. But I continue because Abby and Hannah are all but foaming at the mouth.

“There’s this one book where he’s her bodyguard, but she’s promised to someone else. And the bodyguard helps them both disappear forever because the guy was abusive, and he fell in love with her over the years he spent protecting her. It’s really sweet, but dark at the same time.”

Scarlett looks over at her friends who are sitting next to me, and laughs, swatting Markus in the shoulder. “I think your turn to pick the next book just got taken.”

My eyes widen, and my fingers tighten around my knees. “No, no. I was just.” My head shakes, damn it, Kaitlyn. Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut? For once, just shut up.

“I’m sorry,” I say far too quickly. “That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t mean to take over.”

“Sorry for what?” Markus’ voice cuts through the room smoother than silk. The sound travels through me, my head lifting like it’s doing everything it can to get closer to the source. “That sounds awesome. I pick that one.”

“Yes!” Hannah and Abby say at the same time.

For the next hour, we read the last few chapters of the book. Only one book goes flying when the words “The End” are read. And I take that as a win because I loved this book so much the first time I read it that I almost threw my Kindle. I never wanted it to be over, and now, they live rent free in my brain.

As everyone packs up to leave, I feel an arm brush against my own. “You didn’t eat,” Markus says, a bag full of food in his hand.

I brush a piece of hair behind my ear, embarrassed that someone noticed in the first place. “I wasn’t hungry.” The lie slips out almost too easily.

“I saw you looking at what everyone else had,” he whispers. “Don’t lie to me, Princesa.”

His gray eyes sparkle in the light of the chandelier hanging overhead as they trace over my face. “Take this, please.” He holds out the bag, waiting for me to make a move. But I’m frozen.

Frozen because a man noticed I didn’t eat and isn’t celebrating me for it. My eyes flutter closed, recalling the first and last time I ever ate around a group of Wyatt’s friends.

He had pinched the back of my arm after I finished a tiny plate of chicken and rice. “Now we know where all those carbs go,” he whispered before he kissed my cheek and walked away like he didn’t just scorn me for eating, especially because I’d spent all day running errands for him, so I didn’t have time to eat before.

He grabs my hand, and my eyes fly open when he places the handle of it across my palm before closing my fingers around it. “You need to eat.”

My first instinct isn’t gratitude, it’s panic. Because accepting this means I now owe him something. And I know exactly how expensive that can be.

“I can take care of myself.” My voice shakes, coming out as more of a breath than actual words.

“Sí⁠*,” he mumbles. “But it’s late.” He motions to the bag, “This way, you don’t have to think. Just warm it up.”