Page 117 of Skate the Line

The deep, rumbly noise surprises me. My eyes spring open, and the ice cube slips. Except, it doesn’t land on the floor. Instead, it falls in between my cleavage, leaving a melted trail of water behind, all for Rhodes to see and gawk at with one eyebrow cocked.

“What are you doing?” I ask, panicking.

I quickly push off the counter ledge. There is no sense in trying to hide the whole ice-rubbing situation, so I don’t even try.

However, I will try to hide my shame.

“The better question is what areyoudoing?” Rhodes walks farther into the dark kitchen and places his palms face down onto the top of the island. I keep my eyes trained to his face instead of his bulging biceps peeking out from the sleeves of his T-shirt.

I quickly make something up. “I…I was hot.”

Technically, I was hot—but not in the way he’s likely thinking.

A line of confusion appears in between his eyes. I’m positive he can see right through me.

“You were hot?” he repeats.

I nod. “I couldn’t sleep, and I was hot.”

Silence fills the kitchen.

I gulp. He stares.

I’m beginning to think he can read my thoughts, which would probably result in losing my job.

I place my cup on the island. “What are you doing?”

Rhodes stands upright, stealing all of my attention. “I was thirsty.”

I’m mesmerized by his slow, long blinks. He casually walks around the edge of the island and rests his hip against the counter, mere feet away from me.

I gulp when his hand reaches out for my cup.

His long fingers wrap around the dewy glass, and then his lips wrap around the same edge that mine were on a second ago.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

Rhodes’s throat bobbing mesmerizes me.

My chest rises and falls too quickly. I can’t hide it.

I need to leave the kitchen.

Rightnow.

“You okay?”

I snap to attention and stare right at his mouth.

“I’m fine!” the lie squeaks out.

Rhodes’s head tilts with skepticism. “You sure, Sunshine? You look flushed.”

The glass gently clinks against the counter. He keeps his hand on it, but he’s staring at me with concern.

“I’m totally a-okay.” I fake a smile, and his forehead crinkles.

I take a step backward on shaky legs, and the concern in his eye climbs. “Did you drink too much?”

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