Page 29 of Thaw My Heart

“I can’t feel it,” she pinches it between two fingers. “Touch it,” she steps towards me.

“I’m not touching your tongue,” I step back.

“Why?” she smiles widely. “Afraid you’d like it?” My deep scowl makes her laugh. “We should probably go home before you can’t trust me, Cowboy,” she winks at me.

“I already don’t trust you,” I fire back.

“Then we should definitely go home.” She sways before a shiver runs through her and she sways again. Almost falling over in the process.

I grab her arm, steadying her. “If you vomit in my truck, you’re walking.”

“You’re such a grump.” She hooks her arm through mine, shivering once more in her thin fringe coat. “But a warm grump,” she snuggles against me, burying her head under my arm.

Fuck me and this entire fucking night.

After letting out a breath of hot air, I take off my flannel and wrap it around her shoulders.

“Well now, there’s that charming side I’ve heard about,” she smiles, threading her arms into my flannel. It’s way too big on her, but something about it looks… nope, I don’t even want to think about it.

“Don’t get used to it.”

She laughs, pulling me along toward my truck. “Come on, Cowboy. I’m freezing.”

Ican’t believe Averie convinced me to do six shots of tequila. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Let loose and have fun. Something my controlling ex-husband would’ve never let me do.

For one, he’d never let me drink, never let me go to the bar with friends, and I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere on my own. Perhaps that’s the reason I drank at least a glass of whiskey a day—spite.

But sitting in Kit’s truck in the dark while tequila stirred in my belly is less fun. Confusing even with the thoughts that consume my mind while I’m wearing his flannel—the softest flannel I’ve ever worn, and it smells sexy as hell. He isn’t getting this shirt back anytime soon.

My thoughts race about everything that I overheard. Who was Dakota? Did Kit like me as Alaska suggested? Why did he kiss Alaska and then ignore her for six months?

I now understand why Alaska wasn’t my biggest fan. She liked him, and when we walked into the bar together, she categorized me as a threat. But I didn’t understand why Kit didn’t like her… or did he?

I glance at him with rosy cheeks, feeling heat everywhere from the amount of alcohol flowing through my veins. His facial expression is cold and defeated, just as cold as the snow-covered road in front of us. He admitted that he didn’t want me, words that crushed me as they broke from his mouth, but when Alaska said that he was scared… I knew that feeling too. The fear of being afraid to move on and open up again. The fear of getting hurt.

It used to cripple me.

I think about placing my hand on his arm to warm him up. To ask him what’s wrong and find out the truth about how he feels while I trace the tattoos on his forearm that trail towards his bicep… damn, I really want to do that.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling away my attention before I can make a move.

Averie:

How’s it going with Kit? Are you going to invite him in?? PS. I’m soooo drunk.

A soft snort escapes my lips. That thought has crossed my mind multiple times—even before my overconsumption of alcohol.

Sadie:

Shouldn’t you be convincing me to do the opposite?

Averie:

You like him. I will always be the friend who convinces you to go after what you want.

Maybe that’s what I like about Averie. She isn’t timid about her wants; she just acts. Like the moment she decided to approach me and become friends. Honestly, it’s what probably took her so far in life with her music career. No fear. And that’s the kind of person I need in my life.

“You had fun tonight, I’m guessing?” he deadpans, not even deeming me a glance.