Page 53 of Icing on the Cake

“You don’t have to do that. I’m already soaked.”

“So am I,” Gerard points out with another grin. “But, at least this way,wewon’t get any wetter.”

No sooner doI walk into the foyer of the athletic complex is Jackson in my face, his hands patting my body for signs of injury. “What took you so long? I was about to call campus police.”

I shrug out of his grasp and hold up the hot pink umbrella. “I ran into Gerard on the way over.”

Jackson’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Gerard?As in Gerard Gunnarson,the hockey player?”

“No, the other Gerard we know,” I deadpan.

Jackson ignores my sarcasm, too caught up in his excitement. He bounces on the balls of his feet like an overeager puppy. “Dude, you have to tell me everything! What did you guys talk about?”

“We talked about the weather and…stuff. Nothing too exciting.”

But even as the words leave my mouth, I know that’s not entirely true. While our conversation may have started mundane, it quickly delved into more personal territory. I can still hear the vulnerability in Gerard’s voice as he admitted his struggles with confidence and academics.

It’s a side of him I never expected to see, and it’s left me feeling…well, I’m not quite sure how to describe it. Intrigued, maybe? More aware that there’s more to Gerard than meets the eye?

Jackson, however, is too distracted by the umbrella in my hand to press for more details.

“What in the name of all that is holy isthatthing?” His face is a mix of horror and fascination.

I hold it out to him with a smirk. “It’s your umbrella, courtesy of Sarah.”

Jackson takes it gingerly, afraid that it might bite him. He holds it at arm’s length and stares at me in disbelief. “It’s so…pink.”

“Real men wear pink.” I echo Gerard’s earlier words with a grin.

Jackson groans and defiantly shakes his head. “I can’t be seen with this, Elliot. My reputation will be ruined.”

“What reputation?” I tease. “The one where you’re known for getting stuck in the rain without an umbrella?”

He glares at me. “You’re the worst best friend ever.”

“I know.”

Jackson sighs heavily, and his broad shoulders slump in defeat. “I guess beggars can’t be choosers, huh?”

“Nope.” I’m enjoying his discomfort way too much. “It’s either this or get drenched going back to your dorm.”

Jackson grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before reluctantly twirling the umbrella like a baton. The frilly edges and sparkly handle are comically out of place in his large, callused hands.

“Come on.” He jerks his head toward the exit. “Let’s get this over with.”

I fall into step beside him as we venture out into the raging storm. The wind whips at the umbrella, and Jackson has to grip the handle with both hands to keep it from flying away.

He links his arm through mine as we navigate the slippery sidewalks and overflowing gutters. It’s a kind gesture, and yet…I can’t help but compare this moment to my earlier walk with Gerard.

With Jackson, there’s a sense of brotherly affection. We joke and banter, trading sarcastic quips as we always do.

But with Gerard, it was different. There was a charge in the air that had my skin tingling and my heart racing. When he held the umbrella over my head to shield me from the worst of the downpour, I felt…safe. Protected. As if nothing could touch me as long as I was with him. It’s a frightening realization. One that has my stomach twisting into anxious knots.

What does it mean? And, more importantly, what am I going to do about it?

AN EMAIL FROM THE ICE QUEEN

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