Page 59 of From Ice to Grace
The more I think about it, the more perfect it gets. She’s the perfect candidate.
Smart. Beautiful. Stable. And she’s got this fire that I can’t help but want to stoke.
I stop on the side-walk, shoving my hands in my pockets and swallowing words that shouldn’t be said out loud. Instead of calling for a ride, I’m halfway back up her stairs and knocking for the second time today.
The door opens, her blue eyes wary, and maybe even a little hopeful.
“Did you forget something?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say, stepping inside before I lose my nerve. “I forgot to say that we should get married.”
Her eyes widen, her mouth parting in shock. For a second she just stands there and I brace myself for her throwing me out. But instead, she slowly closes the door behind me.
At least that’s a good sign.
“You know I make agreements with the women in my life,” I say, watching her expression closely. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, I just know I don’t want to miss a moment of it. “That’s just how I’ve always done things. But my brother, my agent that is…well basically everyone, has been telling me that I need to find more stability and that it would help the organization gain more confidence in me.”
She frowns, drawing in a breath and I know she’s about to rip me apart with that sharp tongue of hers. Instinct kicks in and I lift my fingers, pressing them against her lips. They’re soft…distracting even.
“Let me finish,” I murmur.
Because if she interrupts, I’ll lose my train of thought and I can’t afford that. For some reason this feels like the ideal solution and the thought of having to look for someone else just doesn’t sit well with me. I have to state my case and make it good because I also know that Avah Johansson can shoot me down in six seconds flat.
“At first, I thought they were insane to even suggest it. Everyone knows my history—the media, the fans, you—but the more I think about it, the more I know they’re on to something. It’s just I can’t do any of that…for real. I’m not good at relationships. Really, I have no desire to even try to be in a real relationship. But I can do agreements.”
Her eyes are sharp on mine, my pulse heightening, but I press on.
“And since you’re in need of a green card, a reason to stay, and I’m in need of a woman who’s stable, normal, nice…” I add that last word with a touch of venom because I’ve truly come to hate the word. “I think it’s the perfect plan. Us getting married and helping each other out.”
I slowly remove my fingers from her lips, my stomach twisting, wondering if I’m giving her the floor to rip me a new one. “Your turn.”
“Oh, thanks. That’s so thoughtful of you,” she says, the usual fire in her voice.
She brushes past me before taking a seat on the couch. She’s quiet, and I don’t know what to make of it. I give her a minute, and somehow it feels like it’s stretching into absolute eternity.
“You can’t do that,” I tell her, running my hand through my hair.
“Do what?” she asks, standing again a frown playing between her eyes.
“Stay quiet when I just said all the things I’ve said.”
She shakes her head, a small smile starting to form which then turns into a frown. Worry stirs in my gut.
“Don’t just shoot this down, Snowflake. Really think about it.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, but you’re not giving me a minute to process.”
“That’s because you don’t need a minute. This is brilliant.” With every passing second I’m convinced this is the best idea, the best option for both of us.
“What about the fact that we don’t like each other?” she asks.
“Sounds like a normal husband and wife to me.”
She’s quiet.
At least she’s not throwing me out. Or yelling at me.
“Avah,” her name leaves my mouth, almost like a plea to put me out of my misery.
