Page 20 of Ice Princess

I scoff and shake my head.

“Where there’s smoke there’s fire. Can you seriously tell me that girl doesn’t use her beauty to her advantage? Who’s to say she’s not using you for the Kinsey name?”

“Trust me,” I mutter, “Rebel wants nothing to do with the Kinsey name.”

Mom dramatically grips the back of her neck, launching into a familiar spiel about how hard it is to be a mother. In the middle of her dramatic performance, my phone buzzes with a message.

REBEL:How’s your mom?

I look up, observing mom’s one-woman monologue about the discomfort she had while pregnant with me, how she thought she wouldn’t survive the fourteen-hour labor, and how I came out at ten pounds and two ounces at birth.

ME:She’s doing better.

REBEL: We need to talk. Meet me at the treehouse.

Dad comes back with the first aid kit and I leave mom to his care.

On my way out the door, I think about what I’ll say to Rebel. Given how she responded at the table, she wasn’t happy about hearing that we’re dating now. There’s no way she’ll want to go along with being my girlfriend.

And that’s probably for the best.

It can’t be her. Mom’s voice is on a loop in my ears.It can’t be her.

I know that more than anyone.

But as I near the treehouse, I find myself reluctant to apologize or take the words back.

CHAPTER

SEVEN

REBEL

Gunner clearsthe forest line on the edge of the Kinsey property and moves toward me at a sedate pace. He’s always been frustratingly even-keeled, compared to his more dramatic mother.

But this is no time to be calm.

Marjorie and her cohorts couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives. By now, the entire town must have heard that we’re dating.

It’s my worst nightmare come to life.

He needs to fix this.

I wait impatiently for him to get closer, shifting my weight from one leg to the other. Gunner stops in front of me, his hands in his pockets.

I straighten to my full height. “Gunner, what was… why did you…” I grit my teeth in frustration. “I don’t even know where to start.”

The prince of Lucky Falls says nothing. He just stares at me like I’m a car with a stalled engine.

Rubbing the crown of my forehead briskly, I mutter, “Is your mom really okay?”

He nods.

“Good. That’s… that’s good.” The Kinseys arethe worst, but I would hate to be responsible for Carol Kinsey getting hurt. Reassured, I fold my arms over my chest, “I’ll hear your explanation now.”

He arches a brow as if to saywhat do you mean?

“You told the Ladies we were dating,” I point out flatly.

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