Page 25 of Puck Love

“Stop laughing atme.”

“I’mnot.”

“Yes, youare.”

He chuckles darkly, and I let go of his hand, falling back into the snow. A little of it sneaks down the front of my shirt, and I scream and scoop my hands into my cleavage to dig it out, though it’s already melting with my body heat. “FuckingCanada!”

Emmett skates over, probably to see what the devil is going on, and both Ross boys just stand there, laughing at me. I fume. I don’t even bother with the skates—I just try crawling away on my hands and knees because I don’t trust my legs. This is uproariously funny to both men, and the more they laugh, the angrier Iget.

“You know, not everybody grew up skatin’ on frozen lakes,” I snap, my southern accent twanging all over the place when I’m mad. “Some of us had summers, and local swimming holes, and ice cream. You can’t even have ice cream here because it’s too goddamn cold. Screw youguys.”

“Come on, Stella, where you gonnago?”

“I’ll crawlhome.”

“That might be quite the trek uphill andall.”

“Don’t get lost in the woods,” Emmett calls. “Or eaten by acougar.”

“They don’t usually attack adults, Em, but she is pretty small. Fun-sized.” Van chuckles and I turn around to glare at both of them. Emmett’s doubled over, slapping his knee, while Van just smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, country. I promise we’ll stoplaughing.”

“You know, it’s no wonder the Predators are way more popular than the Crushers. At least we have some southern hospitality going forus.”

“Oh no she didn’t,” Emmettsays.

Van stalks toward me, digging his skates into the snow, getting closer by the second. He offers me a hand up, and I grudgingly accept it. “Hospitality, huh? What do you call me letting you stay at LodgeRoss?”

“Oh, please. You’re just keeping me there because . . . well, because . . .” I cast my gaze around and realize that while my eyes have been firmly locked on his, we’ve been moving. We’re now on the ice. I glance back at the bank I sat on just a second ago, but my legs wobble and slip out again. Van wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. My body is flush withhis.

“Don’t panic. I’ve gotyou.”

I stare up into pretty blue eyes and plead, “I wanna goback.”

“You trustme?”

“Van, no. Ican’t.”

“Sure, you can. I’m right besideyou.”

“No! Don’t letgo.”

He places his gloved hand in mine and steps back. Slowly, he begins to move forward, taking me with him. I wobble, thrusting my other arm out for balance. We skate this way across the pond, and then, as he picks up speed and the cold air rushes over my face, a smile forms on my lips and I shriek, half in fear, and half with excitement. He laughs, but it isn’t mocking like before. I know he genuinely loves this, and I guess a part of me can see why. It feels likeflying.

“You wanna try on yourown?”

“No! Don’t letgo.”

“You looking for an excuse to hold my hand,country?”

“No. I’m afraid offalling.”

“But that’s the best part.” He grins, squeezing my hand tighter, and I have a feeling he’sright.

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