Page 63 of Cold As Ice

That I wouldn’t have much time forher.

But Madison had made it clear where we stood. Even though she was here, something had cooled between us. Like she’d put up a wall.

I couldn’t blame her. She had to think about Imogen. But it didn’t stop me from wanting to be around her.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a sociable guy,” I replied, shoving my almost-empty plate away.

“Oh, I don’t know. You don’t do so bad.” Madison smiled at me, and the air heated between us.

Was she imagining how good it had been between us? Because I sure as fuck was.

“Austin,” she warned, and I had my answer. But she had to hammer home the point. “Friends, remember.”

“Yeah, I know.” I fought a smile.

Friendswere safe. Uncomplicated and less messy.

But it didn’t stop me from wishing that, for once, that things were different.

That I was different.

* * *

“You’re sure about this?” I asked when we reached Madison’s building.

I’d been surprised when she offered to let me stay. But I wasn’t about to decline the chance to spend more time with her.

“You need a place to stay. I have a perfectly good couch going spare.”

“I don’t want to make—”

“Austin?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” Her lips quirked as she unlocked the door and ushered me inside.

The second I entered her apartment, I was aware that this was a family space. Toys littered the floor. Children’s artwork decorated the sideboard and hung in frames on the wall. Imogen was everywhere even though she wasn’t here.

And I didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Don’t look so terrified; it won’t bite.” Amusement coated Madison’s words as she caught me staring at some kind of papier-mâché animal. Except it didn’t look friendly in the least. It looked positively terrifying.

“It’s… cute.”

“It’s a horror show.” Madison chuckled. “But Immy was so proud of herself for making it, I couldn’t bear to throw it out. I’m hoping she’ll bring home something a little less scary to replace it soon.

“Can I get you something to drink? Eat?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a bottle of water,” I replied.

I was out of my depth here. But after dinner, we’d gotten a drink. One drink led to two, and then Madison offered to let me stay here for the night.

“I have soda or hot chocolate?”

“Water is fine.”

She motioned for me to follow her over to the kitchen. It was a compact design with room for a small table at the end of the breakfast counter. More artwork decorated the refrigerator, and there was a homemade calendar hanging on the wall that looked suspiciously like a reindeer made out of a little hand.

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