Page 91 of Stuck with Me

Whipping my head to look at her, I pinch my brows together.

“I was talking about you getting jealous. Of Dean.”

My jaw pops. “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stay back there and watch you dry fuck Designated Dean any longer.”

She barks out a laugh into the bitter cold air. “I was trying not to fall off. Especially when some asshole tried to run us off the path.”

“Pft.” I snub off her comment and gaze out at the view. Seeing the mountain from this high off the ground makes everything look even whiter and prettier.

“And would you rather it be you dry fucking me?”

I return my attention to her. My gaze falling onto her eyes. Beautifully dark brown and glassy in the cold. Bright pink tints her cheeks and the tip of her nose. My vision lands on her lips. Red and wet and screwed up tight in her irritation with me.

“Always. I’ll always rather it be me.” My response seems to surprise us both.

But she plays it off with another huff of laughter. She shakes her head and faces forward. I take my chances and set my palm on her thigh. Her attention goes to my hand. But I don’t move it.

“Nico,” my name tumbles from her lips on a sigh.

But I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad sigh.

I increase the pressure of my hand and rub her thigh.

“We’re not lovers. Hell, we’re not even friends.”

“You’re right,” I agree, as much as it pains me. My hand has a mind of its own, it slides up the inside of her thigh until it reaches her center. “But we’re not strangers anymore either. So, let’s go back.”

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to do that.”

Even through the layers of fabric, she can feel the pressure of my touch. I see it in her eyes, in her body language. “Strictly business. No pleasure.”

She snorts. “Says the guy who’s trying to feel me up. On an open chairlift, might I add.”

“What can I say, you make me feel unhinged, Kit-Kat,” I growl and cup her cheek with my palm.

“Yeah? Because you make me feel…vulnerable.”

My throat constricts at her honesty. I study her face while every emotion pervades her.

“And I don’t open up to just anyone. I let you in, Nico.”

I nod but stay quiet, biting on my cheek.

“So we can never go back. I can’t hate you. But I can sure as hell try to pretend to hate you.” She gives me a weak smile. “Deal?”

I get caught up in the moment, not caring who sees us, and I drag her toward me and press my mouth on hers. Even though they’re icy-cold, the kiss is intoxicating. I part her lips with my tongue and warmth bursts in my mouth when hers tangles with mine. She gives me a few more seconds of crazed kissing until she pulls away.

I press my forehead against hers and exhale a wobbly sigh before finally mumbling, “Deal.”

* * *

Amelia is goingto lose her shit when I send her pictures I took while up in the chairlift today. The views were breathtaking. But even better than the view; the company. There’s no one I would’ve wanted to experience that with than Rosie.

And that’s downright pathetic.

While everyone else is showering and dressing in cozy pajamas preparing for a holiday movie or strip UNO, I need a few minutes alone. My brain needs time to process. The words exchanged between Rosie and I, the fact that we will never be more than—whatever the hell we are. Two people who have insane chemistry but have to pretend to hate each other.

When I step outside of the cabin, Dean and Sabrina are sitting on the porch swing looking too cozy to be just friends. But who am I to judge? I might be in love with my granddad’s ex-lover’s granddaughter.

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