Page 25 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

“After you, cowboy.”

He was silent as we slowly made our way back over to the house. The rain had stopped completely by now, and the clouds overhead drifted away enough to reveal a bright moon. The crickets seemed to have woken up after the storm passed, too, theircheep-cheepfilling the air in between the sound of our boots on the wet dirt.

We took off the muck boots and left them on the deck, stepping back into my living room. The fire was going pretty well by now, and I set down my lantern.

Jesse sat on one corner of my couch, and I took the spot next to him, relaxing onto the cushion.

“You really think I wouldn’t have wanted you?” Jesse asked.

I turned and saw his eyes, looking morebedroomythan ever in front of the fire.

Flirty ass hockey punk. Fuck, I should have sat on the opposite side of the couch entirely.

Something behind my sternum ached.

“No,” I said. “I think you would have wanted to… punish me, in the fun way. But I didn’t think you actually wanted me.”

“Why are you so sure about that?”

“That’s what I’m used to,” I said. “People think I’m fun to talk to, but they think I’m a mess. And maybe they’re right. But I just feel like most people don’tgetit.”

“Get what?”

I shifted. “I shouldn’t be saying this, but a guy said I was insane a few months ago just because I told him I like a hand around my neck. It’s not like I want to be choked out, I just—”

“Like the feeling of a strong hand around your neck,” he completed my sentence. “I get you, Mason.”

“Exactly. I’m not afraid of the feeling. It’s comforting, sometimes.”

Jesse swallowed. I watched him glance from my eyes to my lips and back again, pausing like there was some question in the air.

“Truth or dare,” he finally said, surprising me for the millionth time that night.

Don’t play a game with him. Just tell him you’re tired, and he’ll leave, and—

“Truth,” I said, ignoring all my good instincts, yet again. “No. Wait. Dare.”

“Dare you to kiss me,” Jesse said, without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

I cocked my head to one side, my body going hot all at once. “Excuse me?”

“I dare you,” he repeated, “to kiss me.”

A riot of butterflies stirred in my stomach.

He couldn’t mean that. Not possible.

“What happened to being totally off the market?”

I stared at his mouth. Fuck, how many people would kill for a chance to kiss that mouth, and he was standing theredaringme to do it?

“That’s still true,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to kiss me. Just once.”

“Why are you doing this, Jesse—”

“Because the last person who kissed me was my ex, and Ireallyfucking don’t like thinking about that anymore, and I just want a goddamn reset button—”

I closed the distance between us before he could finish talking.

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