Page 25 of Ice Ice Maybe
Finally, Zena cleared her throat. “I, uh, prefer the bed closest to the bathroom, if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s fine with me,” I said, grateful for the break in tension. “Any reason?”
“I have this irrational fear of tripping over furniture in the dark if I need to use the bathroom at night.” Zena shrugged sheepishly. “It’s a thing.”
I chuckled, the remaining tension dissipating. “Well, we can’t have you stubbing your toe on my account.”
“My hero,” she said dramatically, kicking off her sandals and flopping onto her chosen bed and then glancing back at me.
I had to force myself to look away. That sexy smile of hers was dangerous, the kind that made it hard to think straight. I needed a distraction, fast.
“Okay then,” I muttered, more to myself than to Zena. I walked over to my suitcase and pulled out a small bag. “I, uh, have something for you.”
Zena sat up, curiosity lighting up her face. “You mean like a gift?”
“Multiple gifts, actually,” I replied, trying to sound casual.
Her eyebrows shot up. “You can’t do that. I got nothing for you.”
“Relax, it’s no big deal,” I assured her, handing her a small red jewelry box.
She took the box and smirked. “It’s a little soon for marriage, don’t you think? And shouldn’t you be down on one knee?”
I snorted. “Keep dreaming. Just open it.”
Zena opened the box and pulled out a small sterling silver pendant of an octopus. An amused smile formed on her lips. “This is so cute, but I don’t get the significance.”
I shrugged. “You told me you were part octopus when we had lunch at Lucha Libre. I saw this and thought of you. That’s all.”
“I can’t believe you remembered that,” Zena said.
“I remember everything,” I said.
“That was sweet of you—I love it,” she breathed. “Would you mind doing the honors?” She stood, unclasped the necklace, and handed it to me before turning around.
Moving her gorgeous auburn hair to the side, my fingers brushed against her neck. After I clasped the necklace, she turned to face me.
“Perfect,” I said with a grin.
Our eyes locked.
I glanced at her lips.
Luckily, my own words came back to save me from making a mistake.
In public, hands on. In private, hands off.
I quickly stepped back, reaching for the second gift, and handing it to her. She opened it and snickered as she pulled out the pair of earplugs.
I shrugged. “Just in case. I’m not sure if I snore or not, and I know sleep is important.”
“How can you not know if you snore?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
“Hello? Because I’m sleeping!” I retorted.
Our laughter subsided as I handed Zena the last gift. She unwrapped it, her expression morphing from curiosity to bewilderment as she held up aSimpson’sT-shirt with Bart, Marge, and Homer grinning cartoonishly at her.
“Okay, Sherlock,” Zena said, eyeing me suspiciously. “You claim to remember everything, but I never told you I was a fan of the show. What gives?”
