Page 131 of Ice Darling
“Can I come?”
Gordie kicks her legs. “Okay!”
Without a second’s hesitation, the woman folds herself into the backseat and situates her flowery dress around her legs with a nonchalant expression.
I narrow my eyes.Who invited you?
A thin shadow falls over me, and I find Renthrow’s momalsoglaring at the teacher.
When she sees that I’m looking, she puts on a sweet smile. “Delia, can you switch places with me? I don’t like being so close to the air conditioning.”
The teacher sits up eagerly. “I’ll go to the front, Brenda.”
“You stay there, Miss Potts,” Brenda orders, pointing a firm finger.
Renthrow gets into the car without looking at anyone in the backseat. “Everyone ready?”
Prickles of awareness slide down my skin when I hear his voice. What’s going on? My heart is thumping like I’m riding a roller coaster.
My eyes land on Renthrow’s giant arms shrouded in the team’s jersey. No wonder hugging him had felt like being hugged by a bear. He’s so…big.
And hot.
And kind.
And sweet.
I don’t think I should sit next to him.
“I don’t like sitting at the front,” I mutter.
“I’ll go.” The teacher scrambles out of her seat.
“Nonsense.” Firm, wrinkled hands wrap around my arm, and I’mheftedout of the backseat like a rotten sensor from a car engine. “Go, go.” Brenda gives me a shove, and I have no choice but to fall into the front seat with Renthrow.
“Hey,” he says quietly to me, starting the car.
I blink slowly. “Hey.”
“Let’s go!” Gordie screams, wiggling her feet with excitement.
Renthrow turns to his daughter. “I didn’t get a chance to shower, so I’ll stop by the house to change first.”
“Okay!” Gordie chirps.
The teacher picks up Gordie’s hand. “Gordie, maybe while we’re at your place, you can show me that telescope your dad bought you.”
“Okay, Miss Potts!” Gordie grins. “Delia, you should see it too.”
“Sounds fun.” I chuckle nervously.
The car takes off.
Renthrow and I don’t speak to each other, but thanks to Gordie, there’s not a silent moment. I’m given a play-by-play of every move that I missed during the game.
“Viking played amazingly. As always,” Miss Potts croons, sliding her hand down Renthrow’s shoulder as she speaks.
My eyes lock on that hand, and I want to slap it away so badly that my fingers tremble.
