Page 42 of Ice Princess

“That’s not true.”

“Itistrue. Plus, you and Gunner are known for being enemies. Of course people are interested in how you two relate now.”

“We’re not the town’s entertainment.”

“You kind of are.” April pulls down her clip and her long, straight hair spills around her shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, at least no one is writing about how you aren’t ‘good enough’ like they did with me and Chance. The old ladies like you and Gunner a lot. They say you have chemistry.”

“Chemistry?” I guffaw. “Animosity. Hatred. Disdain. Sure, we have that. But we don’t have chemistry.”

As I speak, I remember Gunner leaning over me, his dark hair just begging for my fingers to run through it. His lips, firm. His gaze,potent. I’d been struck dumb by the look in his eyes. How did hedothat? It’s like he went to the Bad Boy School of Eye Smoldering.

Aggravated, I pick up the pink lemonade again and cough when it goes down the wrong pipe.

“Take it easy, Rebel.” April pats my back until the coughing subsides.

I pinch my nose to stop the burn in my nostrils. Stupid Gunner. He keeps saying weird, confusing things.

You’re my responsibility and I’ve got your back.

Yeah, right.

The only thing a Kinsey will do to my back is stick a knife in it.

“April,” I wheeze, still recovering from my coughing fit, “I need your help.”

My best friend offers me a napkin.

I take it and wipe my mouth dry. “How do you tick off your boyfriend?”

“How do I…” Her eyes narrow at me. “What?”

I made a total fool of myself because Gunner gave me the impression that he’d kiss me. The shame still makes my cheeks burn. I have to get him back for that.

But Gunner’s so unflappable. I bet he could hammer his own thumb by mistake and he wouldn’t holler.That’show unbothered he is.

“Pretend that you and Chance are in a fight. What’s something that would really get under his skin?”

“Are you trying to get under Gunner’s skin?”

Heat creeps to my cheeks. Why does it sound scandalous when she says it like that? “Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

I set the pink lemonade aside and hop to my feet.

April laughs. “Did Gunner say something to upset you? Is that why you’re asking?”

I shake my head and walk over to the car.

“Fine. Fine. Let me think.” She jogs toward me and taps her chin in thought. “Chance is really easy-going so not much bothers him, but…”

“But?”

“He does have this weird thing about his jersey,” April says.

I lean forward. “What about his jersey? Like he can’t stand when it’s dirty?”

A million ideas populate in my mind. I can sneak into the stadium, steal Gunner’s jersey and spray it with fish oil. Better yet, if he has lucky socks or a lucky charm of some sort, I can steal it and…

“No,” April corrects me, her pink lips stretching into a knowing smile. “Like he has this thing about me wearing his jersey. I think it would really tick him off if he saw me in another player’s merch.”

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