Page 22 of Love on Ice

“Sure. We’re friends. I won’t deny that I’d still jerk off over you.” I grin. This makes her smile too. “I hope we stay in touch after this week.”

“As friends?”

I nod. “Yeah. You can show me around New York, it’s been a while since I’ve lived there.”

“You want me to be your guide again?” she asks.

“You’re pretty good at playing tour guide.”

“Am I now?” she questions me.

“I haven’t seen everything yet, so I can’t tell if you’re the best or not,” I tease, which makes her playfully slap me.

“Here, put your number into my phone,” she says, handing it over. I take it and start typing in my number. “I can show you around town as friends. I don’t need the lecture from Issy,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I’d probably get one from my brother, too,” I add as I hand back the phone.

“Oh, for sure. He is not my biggest fan.” She grins.

“It wouldn’t work out for us then. My brother’s opinion is important to me,” I tell her.

“Seriously?”

I burst out laughing. “No. I couldn’t give a shit what he has to say. Even though I’m sure he would have an opinion.”

Harper looks relieved. “Phew, I was second-guessing us being friends.”

8

HARPER

“Who knew you could have fun on this island without sex.” Felix chuckles as we take a seat after playing tennis.

“For an athlete, you suck at tennis,” I tease him as I throw back my water.

“I play hockey. As in on frozen water, with a long stick and a flat round disc. Not spongey fake grass, with a waffle and an orange.” He moans.

“A waffle?” I ask, bursting out laughing.

“This doesn’t look like a waffle to you?” he asks, turning the racket over in his hand.

“Do you need glasses as well as tennis lessons?” I tease him. Which makes him reach out and start tickling me, making me squeal.

“Take it back.”

“Okay. Okay.” I squeal, pleading for mercy from him.

“I challenge you to a game of hockey when we get home. Then you will see who the real athlete is,” he says, pointing his racket at me.

“That’s unfair. It’s your job. I’m not a professional tennis player. Should be something different,” I tell him.

Felix mulls my request over. “Fair. How about a round of axe throwing then?”

“Axe throwing? You’re Canadian, that seems like it would be your national sport after hockey,” I tease him.

“Just like tennis is for a society girl from New York,” he bites back.

“Touché.” I grin, taking another sip of my water. “Fine. I’ll go axe throwing with you. Still think I’m in with a chance.”

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