Break the Ice

by Piper Rayne

  “What gives?” Chelsea asks, looking behind him into the hallway.

  Mikey shakes his head. “I’m flying solo. Guess you can be my partner tonight.” He wraps his arm around his cousin’s shoulder.

  “Who says I don’t have a date coming?” she mocks offense. Chelsea would never bring a guy around. As much as she likes to throw stones, she was already married once and from the little that Sky says about it, it failed spectacularly.

  “Is Mr. Snuggles here?” Mikey does his best kiddie voice and Chelsea shoves him, joining Sky and Zoe in the kitchen.

  Mikey walks over to Vin and me, giving us each a handshake. “Who’s Mr. Snuggles?” I ask.

  “It’s a stuffed animal from when we were little. I may have hidden it from her numerous times.” He shrugs. “One time she cried so hard she threw up.”

  We laugh, but we don’t have a lot of time at the bar getting drinks before the girls are preparing a card game.

  “We’ve got a new one for you boys tonight.” Zoe waves a box in the air and all I catch is the word Meme.

  Mikey snaps his finger and points. “And my friends asked why I’d come here on a Saturday night.”

  “Without the kids peering over the shoulders and with Mom and Dad in Arizona we can have some real fun,” Zoe says.

  “Shit, what kind of game is it?” Vin asks and we all take our spots around the table. Skylar on my left and thankfully Mikey—not Chelsea—on my right.

  “Hey, I heard I missed you guys last weekend?” Mikey sips his beer and glances over. “I also heard the dance floor was hot.” He raises his eyebrows a few times.

  Chelsea laughs next to him. Neither Skylar nor I look at each other or react. We still haven’t talked about that night. Thankfully, Zoe’s already down to business and begins to explain the game to us.

  “Okay, I pick a card with a picture on it and then you each are going to pick a line to go with it from the cards you get so that you make a meme.” Zoe passes out the cards.

  “Shit, Zo,” Skylar stares down at her selection of phrases to use for the picture.

  “It’s like caption, but you have to use the cards you’re given. I’ll read them through and pick the winner based on which one is the funniest. Then that person grabs a meme and we do the whole thing over until we finish and whoever has the most meme pictures wins.”

  We all nod in understanding.

  Zoe puts down a picture of a man sitting back on his couch with his hands linked behind his head, his feet up on the coffee table.

  We each put down our caption face down and Zoe picks them up, reading them out loud. “When you invite them over to Netflix and chill when you know you don’t have Netflix.”

  The table laughs because it was the funniest one.

  “That’s a bad thing?” Mikey asks. “I never get any complaints.”

  Both sisters roll their eyes, Zoe grabbing a pretzel and throwing it at him. “You’re such a manwhore.”

  “Manwhore? They know what they sign up for, sis.”

  Zoe shakes her head, passing the meme cards to Chelsea since she picked the winning caption. She looks through the heavy stack and Skylar’s phone lights up between us.

  She quickly presses the side to make the screen go black. As if that move wasn’t bad enough she glances quickly to the side to check if I saw her.

  “Who’s that?” I ask, tossing a pretzel into my mouth and hoping to appear more casual than I feel right now.

  She picks up her phone and puts it on do not disturb. “No one.”

  “Bullshit,” Mikey coughs out.

  “Mauro?” Chelsea raises her eyebrows.

  I wish red wasn’t the first color that falls like a curtain over my eyes. Followed seconds later by green.

  “Who’s Mauro?” Mikey asks.

  “A firefighter she met. Super hot,” Chelsea adds in her unwanted two cents.

  “Why don’t you pick a card?” I say to her and she rolls her eyes, a smirk on her lips.

  “Here.” She places a meme of two confused kids with their hands up in the air. “Happy?”

  “Yes.” I look through my caption cards and put down the one I select.

  Vin’s taking a while, so I grab a handful of pretzels and lean back.

  “Is it? Mauro?” I ask even though I know I need to let this shit go.

  Skylar nods, but never makes eye contact with me.

  The table grows quiet and I feel like there’s a spotlight over my head while everyone waits to see how I react.

  “He seemed cool,” I say and shrug, feigning nonchalance.

  Chelsea roots through all the caption cards and starts laughing. “This is so the winner…When you ask for directions and the dickhead uses east and west.”

  We all laugh and the tension from moments ago evaporates.

  For the next hour, the meme game turns into a tequila shot drinking game for everyone who doesn’t get his or her caption picked.

  I blame Mikey.

  Two hours later, the memes and the captions are thrown on the kitchen table as more and more people arrive with alcohol in their hands and party time in their head.

  Three hours later, I’m cornered, alone in the kitchen with Skylar, trying to remember why I keep insisting it isn’t a good idea for the two of us to be together.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “So, what’s up with you and Mauro?” I ask, my tequila laced breath blowing down on Skylar.

  We’re tucked in the pantry with a party roaring to life outside. I don’t even remember how we ended up in here alone. I think she came in looking for a snack and I followed like a lost puppy.

  “Why do you care?” She sways slightly but grips the wire racks before losing her balance.

  I’d catch her if she was falling, but she probably doesn’t believe I would.

  “Because you’re my friend.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “What’s that?” I point to her eyes. “You’re always rolling your eyes at me lately.”

  She lightly shoves me away, her hand moving to the pantry door. “Don’t.”

  “Sky?” Her name coming as more of a plea in my tone. “What’s the problem?”

  She whips around, and I almost forgot how snarky she can get when she drinks. I move more toward the lover part of my personality and she takes a hard right into the fighter portion of hers.

  “You tell me, Beckett. This,” she waves a finger between the two of us, “we’re just friends, right? Well, then Mauro is no business of yours.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sky. No need to be mean.” I sip the beer in my hands. No idea how many I’ve had. “I was just curious.”

  “No, you want to piss around me in a circle. What do you want, Beckett? You want me to remain single my entire life, so we can be best friends? Well, as much as you like life to stand still, it doesn’t. The Earth still spins on its axis daily.”

  “Are you giving me a science class right now?”

  She takes a bag of rice and throws it at me. I move to the side just in time and the little grains sprinkle all over the floor.

  When I look up, she’s gone.

  Fuck.

  I follow her, but it seems like the size of the party has doubled in the short time I cornered her. I swear every one of their friends from high school is here. Chelsea’s dancing on the coffee table, Mikey’s throwing back shots with a group of guys around his dad’s bar, but Zoe and Vin aren’t in sight and I’d bet money they left based on the make-out session they were having before I went into the kitchen.

  “Beckett!” Chelsea screams, pointing to me, effectively making everyone around her glance my way.

  My gaze moves away from Skylar’s retreating back to her.

  “You know I love you, right? I give you a lot of shit, but secretly...” she motions between the two of us with her finger. “We enjoy giving each other hell.”

  “I think you’re drunk.”

  She smiles, and then a new song comes on and she’s swaying
her hips. “I know I’m drunk!”

  How the hell did this party get so out of hand?

  “Beck, come take a shot.” Mikey motions me over.

  He pulls me into him with an arm around my neck. “This guy will be my brother-in-law one day.”

  The other guys say nothing and I’m not going to embarrass him by saying I’m not. What once felt like any easy punch line now makes it feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.

  “He can get whatever ass he wants, but he’s faithful to my sister even when he’s not getting it from her.” He pushes me back by my chest.

  Shit, is that how it’s perceived? That I get more action with my hand than women? I don’t care from an ego point of view, but do they all think I’ve been pining away for Skylar for four years?

  “You’re telling me you’ve got a Classics medal. You’re on television and not bad looking.” One of his friends steps up alongside me. “And you’re not getting regular ass?”

  I lift my arm. “I gotta a broken arm.”

  The guy slaps me on the back. “Hell, if I were you, I’d still be out living it up. Go for what you want and to hell with the consequences.” He points to my sling.

  Mikey slides a shot glass in front of me. “Fuck yeah.” He raises his own glass in the air and all his friends do the same. “Always go for what you want.”

  Mikey waits for me to raise my glass, but I’m still processing the words from his friend. Why the hell am I not taking what I want because she’s going to leave me anyway? She’s got plans for grad school, to stay here in Chicago and she obviously wants to date other people. Can one night really ruin us?

  I knock back the shot and slam the glass down on the table. On my way out of the room, Chelsea screams, “Who wants to go out to the bar?”

  Good. Because what I’m about to do needs some privacy.

  Lucky for me, the entire party is in agreement, and everyone starts hollering about who’s going to ping the Ubers and how many they need.

  Walking up the stairs, I glance down to see people putting on their jackets and shoes. Chelsea’s gaze raises to mine and she winks. “I’ll be sure to lock up.”

  I don’t respond. Instead, I walk down the hall and knock on the only closed door.

  “Yeah,” Sky says from the other side.

  My palm stretches over the knob and I close my eyes and try to put my drunken thoughts in order. When I open the door, she’s laying on her bed, her phone raised above her head, the screen the only light in the room.

  “Everyone is going to the bar,” I say.

  “You go. I’m staying home,” she says, not bothering to glance my way.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  My tone must be my tell because she springs up, her phone laying at her side, her eyes widened in surprise. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m going to do something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

  I shut the door and step forward where I fall on my knees in front of her. Using my left hand, I pull her toward me by her neck and release all the pent up sexual tension between us.

  My lips meet hers and a moan sounds between us, but I’m not sure if it was her or me. Her lips are as warm and soft as I imagined. Both her hands cradle my cheeks and I don’t want to sound like a chick, but an overwhelming feeling of peace and safety consumes me.

  I crave more—more of her touch, more of her lips, more of her sweetness—more everything. It’s clear how much she has to offer if she were more than a friend. Damn, if I don’t hope she is feeling the same way I am.

  I inwardly curse my one-arm handicap. “I’m going to need your help,” I say against her lips and she draws back, a sly grin on her face.

  Her hands reach for the hem of her sweater, slowly inching it up and over her chest. Her skin is sprinkled with goose bumps and my mouth salivates as she reaches back, her eyes never leaving mine, and unclasps her bra.

  Of all the women I’ve had, though there isn’t an overly long list, she’s by far the most beautiful. But I knew that before she ever took off her clothes. Inside and out. Skylar is that one rare jewel people don’t believe exists and the only one who is rewarded is the person who sought her out knowing how precious she really is.

  “Say something,” she whispers. There’s desperation in her tone. How can she be worried what I think?

  “You’re beautiful…stunning…gorgeous.” If I wasn’t half drunk, I’d name all the adjectives and synonyms in the English language for breathtaking.

  A slow smile crosses her lips and her hands reach for the hem of my t-shirt. “Let me help you.”

  My lips refuse to break the kiss and slam back into hers as her hands land on my torso. “I promise next time I’ll do the stripping,” I mumble between our kisses.

  We slowly—and it’s not sexy one bit—pull my shirt off, joining hers on the floor.

  “Stand,” I say.

  She gets up on her feet, my face between her legs. Inching forward, I grab her ass with my good hand and thrust her forward. It might not be pretty, but I’m not getting her help to take her pants off.

  She moans as her leggings and silk panties pool at her feet, while I savor the scent of her, my tongue swiping for my first taste. A spot that’s been taboo between us as friends, is just as sugary sweet as the rest of her. I want to push her into my face, fall to the floor and have her sit on top of me, but tonight, my burning need is to claim her. To bury myself into her while the two of us fall apart in each other’s arms.

  My tongue slides up her bare stomach, through the valley of her breasts and up her neck until I take her lips with mine, my tongue swirling with hers.

  She steps out of her pants, her hands fiddling with the back of my head. I’m so lost in her that it takes me a moment to notice that her hand slides down my stomach, landing on my track pants. Stepping us backward, I lock her to the wall, having to be inventive since I only have use of one arm. I grind into her and she grabs my ass, kneading the flesh with her hands.

  She pushes my track pants down and since I went commando tonight, my dick nuzzles into her hot core. She shaved, completely and that fact both surprises and fascinates me. I always assumed she was a landing strip girl, but I’m happy I was wrong. Especially since she’s already soaked, and my dick already feels like it’s on a slip and slide.

  “Sky, you feel so good. So much better than I could have imagined.” My lips cascade over her chin, her jaw, the hollow of her neck, as though I’m leaving my scent for any man who tries to take her after me.

  Our bodies are hot, wet and sliding along one another as our hands move at a frenzied pace. Damn arm, if it wasn’t for that, I’d have her legs wrapped around my waist by now.

  Reading my mind, she starts moving us toward the bed.

  “Looks like I’m going to take the reins tonight, big guy.”

  The back of my knees hit the mattress and my butt lands on the softness of her twin-size childhood bed, adorned with pink ruffles and all.

  “Don’t you worry. One arm doesn’t mean I’m down for the count.”

  I slide up on the bed, wiggling to fit my entire body. She doesn’t miss a beat, moving over top to straddle me.

  “Condom?” I ask. I can hear the awe in my voice as I look up at the most amazing woman on earth.

  “I’m on the pill. Clean?”

  “You know it.”

  She does because part of the Winter Classics medical work-up beforehand means a plethora of tests and we went together.

  The real dismay is that my hands can’t worship both of her tits at the same time. My good hand greedily takes all it can, moving from one full breast to the other, making sure to give ample attention to both erect nipples.

  She guides me in, her hand on my chest, her hair falling behind her back as she arches her neck. There’s so much I want to do in this moment. I want to run my thumb down the middle of her neck and follow a path down between her breasts to her center. I want my hands to mold to her hips and guide her g
orgeous body back and forth until she’s milking my cock.

  Sky rides me, and I watch her tits bounce as I do what I can with my one hand to guide her movements. The only sound in the room is the slapping of our bodies and our mixed cries of pleasure.

  When she arches her back and her fingernails scratch down my torso then grip my sides, I know that whatever she’s feeling, she’s about to come.

  I hammer up with my hips to drive into her as deep as I can. My body wants to control the situation, flip her onto her back and thrust inside of her over and over again, but that has to wait until my damn arm is healed.

  My gaze fixates on her. Relishing her enjoyment. Enjoyment she’s getting from me. This woman who is my best friend, who has stuck by me for four years. Nursed me back to health, brought me into her family like I belonged there all along, and trusts me more than any other person in her life.

  She’s moaning and chanting my name and something inside of me snaps. Intense pressure swells through my dick, my balls tighten, but she’d yet to come.

  I could smack myself for the years I didn’t get to experience this moment with her. I’m about two minutes from coming and if she continues to work me like she is, it’s going to be more like a second.

  “Come, please fucking come,” I beg her out of desperation. I can’t come before her.

  Her gaze falls down to me, and there’s a smile on her lips. I use my good hand to bring my thumb to the juncture of her thighs and press down on her swollen bud with my thumb.

  She tightens around my shaft immediately. “Oh, Beck,” she whispers from her lips at the exact moment I lose my battle and come. She falls on top of me, sliding to the side so she doesn’t hit my arm.

  She always does think of others.

  I brush away her sweaty hair. “I owe you one.”

  A blissful smile that should make my heart swell, somehow feels like a slash across the tender flesh when it comes over her face. “I can’t imagine how amazing you’ll be with two working hands.”

  I slide out from under her, grabbing some tissues and cleaning myself up.

  Shit just got a whole lot more complicated.