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Authors: Liz Reinhardt

BOOK: Heart Thaw
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He waggles his eyebrows.

“Hardy har,” I say in a voice that wobbles up and down. “Let’s keep why we can’t simple. We can’t because neither one of us will be happy if this gets messed up.”

“That’s the fucking truth,” Trent says, rubbing his fingers over mine. “Here’s the problem: I won’t be happy if I’m not with you either. So I want to try.”

I blink a few times, trying to process what he’s saying.

“But, we did. Try. And it was…” Without meaning to, I let a low, hot moan escape from my throat. “Mmm. It was perfect. And hot. But that’s chemistry, Trent. That’s sex. That’s not
us
.”

“I’m starting to get offended at how much you obviously use me for my sexy body. I mean, I like it. I like the way we, uh, compliment each other in bed. But there’s a lot more to it than that, Sadie. I’ve had years to be with women—really smart, gorgeous, sometimes crazy women—and none of them have done it for me the way you do.”

His voice is soft and so seductive, I’m melting into it.

“But maybe that’s just because you and I have been circling each other since forever, Trent. Maybe it’s just wanting what you can’t have,” I suggest, thinking about Mom’s ‘puppy love’ comments.

He cages me in his arms, his hands pressed to the wall behind my head.

“But I’ve had you. Over and over. And everytime I see you, touch you, talk to you, it leaves me starved for more. When you’re not around, I’m thinking about you. And when you’re anywhere near me, I feel like a goddamn stalker.”

His lips brush over mine.

“I think about you all the time, too,” I whisper, scared to admit even to myself how much I really do. “And maybe later, maybe a few years from now, when things aren’t so screwed up, if we still feel this way...maybe then? Maybe we can try?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for him to walk away.

But he doesn’t. He stands and fights. For this. For us. With nothing but a few shreds of connection here and there, he’s determined.

“I know for a long time I was kind of a screw up. But my shit is unbelievably together now. I know I keep bugging you about how you never ask. Damnit, Sadie, it’s because I
want
you to ask in the worst fucking way. I want you to be proud of me.”

He slides his hands to either side of my face and runs his thumbs over my cheekbones. I close my eyes and sink into the feel of his hands on me.

“I’m proud of you,” I murmur.

“You don’t even know, Sadie. You have no idea how much...what I want to…” He blows out a long breath. “Fuck it. I’m going to kiss you, and I don’t give a single fuck whether your mom or our sisters or anyone thinks it’s a bad idea. It’s not just what I want. It’s what I
need
. I need you. And I don’t plan to let you go again.”

Then his mouth is on mine.

And I wrap my arms around his neck, press my lips to his, lick at his mouth, press against his body.

It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I vowed on Eileen’s name that I would fix this.

It hasn’t even been six hours since my mom yanked me into the kitchen and talked some sense into me.

And here I am, in his arms again and wanting him every bit as badly as I’m not supposed to.

“Trent,” I moan.

His hand reaches down, grabs on to the naked side of my thigh where Jeremy tried to touch me just a few minutes ago. He slides his hand up to the hem of my dress and underneath, his fingers rubbing over the curve of my ass.

“I need you.” He kisses me hard, pulls back, lets his eyes roam down over my body, and sinks his face into my cleavage, licking and kissing. “You’re driving me crazy.”

I grab tight to his wrist and drag his hand between my legs. His fingers sink into the slick wet heat where I direct him and press hard.

“I need you, too,” I tell him, catching his earlobe in my teeth. My hands slide down his shirt, bumping along the strong muscles of his body. I find the button of his jeans and tug it open, pull his zipper down, and move my hand under the waistband of his boxers. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I say, the words riding on the first moan I can’t bite back.

He lifts me with one arm and keeps his fingers working their perfect rhythm. I’m trying to return the favor, but it’s hard when he’s making my mind race and tackling all my motor skills.

“You say ‘stop’ and I stop,” he challenges, his fingers stilled on my body.

I say nothing.

I moan and buck against him softly.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Trent and I would have kept going until there was nowhere else to go, but my sister’s screech makes us both look up like nervous criminals, wiping our mouths and straightening our clothes.

“What the
hell
is going on here?” Ella demands.

Her eyes are puffy like she’s been crying, and her makeup looks like it’s been washed off. I want to ask her what happened, but the minute I try to form the words, she backs up, shaking her head and her finger at me.

“Oh no. No, no, no you don’t! Do not turn this around and pretend you give a shit about me, Sadie! You tell me what the hell is going on
right now.

She looks back and forth between us.

Trent clears his throat and steps forward, his body shielding mine protectively. I duck my head, my face on fire, and tug my panties into place under my skirt.

“Ella, Sadie and I are—”

He stops and looks back at me.

“We’ve been…”

I try, but I don’t know where to take it after that.

“You’ve been
what
?” she snarls. “Fucking? Is that what you’ve been doing?”

“Ella, calm down,” Trent says, reaching out for her. She pulls back. “Ella, listen.”

She waits a few beats, then gives a snide laugh.

“Oh, I’m listening. And let me be totally clear. If I heard,
We love eachother!
or
We’re running away to Mexico to start a bed and breakfast together!
I’d call you idiots, but I’d be so fucking happy for you.
What
are you doing?” she asks again, her voice frantic and high. Her eyes—wild, sad, desperate—trip from my face to Trent’s and back again. “What are you doing? Our families are falling apart and you two decide to become fuck buddies? Of all the people you could have done this with, you chose each other?”

“Ella, you need to back up,” I finally snap. “I don’t exactly love the idea of you dating Antonia, alright. You never liked me with Jace. Fine. So what? We’re adults, okay? You need to get off your soapbox and stop acting like such a child about this.”

“Me acting like the child?” she cries, splaying a hand over her chest. “
Me
? You two realize you’re basically making sure you shred whatever last remnants of family we have? I’m so fucking disgusted, I can’t even
look
at you.”

“Ella, that’s not what this is. That’s not what we’re doing,” Trent says slowly, walking toward her one booted step at a time.

But my sister throws her hands up, letting him know she’s not about to hug this out.

“Do you even have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?” Ella asks him, her voice low and harsh. “Do you? It didn’t even occur to my sister to stay here for Christmas break. Didn’t even cross her mind until Georgia begged her. She’s
never
stayed here a day longer than she had to since she left for college. So what does that mean for you, Trent? You think my sister’s the committing type? Or maybe she’s not with other people, but you’re somehow special? After she’s ignored you and dated assholes for years? Please don’t tell me that’s what you believe. Because you’re kidding yourself,” she hisses.

“Ella,” I gasp, feeling like I’ve been punched over and over again by her barbed words. “I didn’t stay here because I had
obligations
. I was working. I had school, I had jobs. I felt guilty for how much of the money Dad left us Mom was using to help me make my car payment and give me spending money, and I didn’t want to let her down. Any of you down. Honestly. I missed you. So much. I did.” Tears are streaking fast and hot down my cheeks. “I wanted to be with you and Mom, but I couldn’t fail.”

“I’m not pissed,” my sister says, her voice like a razor. “Not at all. It’s just that I don’t think Trent realizes that when it comes time to choose, you always choose yourself.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand,” I choke out, my knees weak. One shoulder smashes against the wall, holding up some of my weight, because my legs can’t do this all alone. “Why would it even have to be a choice? Why can’t I do well at school for myself
and
love you? Why does it have to be an either/or thing, Ella?”

“Because it is,” she says, pointing at me, her eyes narrowed. “That’s what love
is
, Sadie. It’s putting yourself last for someone else. That’s why you never understand—” Her voice cracks and her shoulders rise up and fall down. “You
never
fucking understand. You’re just like
her.

“Ella.”

I reach for my sister, but she throws her hands out like I’m toxic.

Trent brushes past me and grabs Ella by the shoulders before she can turn tail and run.

“Antonia? She broke up with you, didn’t she?”

Ella looks up at him like he slapped her across the face. She drops her head to his chest and wails, “Yes! Why, Trent? Why? I would have done
anything
for her. I loved her so hard. Why didn’t she love me back?”

I reach a hand out, but there’s nothing for me to do. Trent is smoothing Ella’s hair and clucking to her softly, saying all the right things without even having to think about them. And when his eyes meet mine, he shakes his head back and forth, letting me know to stay back.

He has this under control.

My sister doesn’t want me. Doesn’t respect me. Hell, I’m not even sure she
likes
me at this point.

I feel hollow and freezing cold all of a sudden. I wrap my arms around my body and shake, wondering if I can find my coat wherever Trent stashed it. I just want to go the hell home, and I know Ella probably does to.

“I need to, um…”

But I don’t finish. I rush past the two of them, into the jostling party, in a mad dash for the door and some fresh air so I can breathe through the way my life has suddenly exploded around my heart.

 

Chapter
Thirteen

I elbow through the crowds and burst out onto the back deck of Jeremy’s house. The bitter wind whips around me, and tiny shards of ice and snow swirl up and pelt me in the face and on my bare arms. I shiver, glancing into the mewing hole of the lagoon-like pool, tarped and covered for the winter.

“You look like you need a jacket,” a rich, syrupy voice drawls.

I look up and Antonia is leaned against the railing, her sexy curve-hugging red dress and red lips flashing out against all the white. Her dark hair is twisted in pincurls and her thick, blunt bangs bring out the deep arch of her eyebrows. She smokes with slow enjoyment, like it isn’t incredibly cold out here.

My teeth chatter.

“What did you do to my sister?”

For a quick second, she drops the whole cold-hearted siren bit and looks at me through a cloud of blue cigarette smoke.

“I didn’t recognize you for a second, Sadie,” she says and winks like we’re old friends. “You look pretty.”

“Fuck you,” I sneer. “I just left my sister in tears.”

Left her with the guy I’m falling for hard, but don’t have the backbone to be with openly. Left her furious at me because I’m as heartless as you are, even if I don’t want to admit it. Weird how the people most like you tend to the be the ones who disgust you the most.

Her eyes shutter and she takes another practiced drag.

“Love hurts.”

She bobs one olive shoulder up and down.

“What the hell does that mean?” I ask, hating her for the way she can stand here and toss cliches around like my sister isn’t inside, sobbing over her brutalized heart.

“It means Ella and I love each other. And it gets intense. And shit hurts.” She narrows her big brown eyes through the acrid haze of smoke. “From what she tells me, you wouldn’t know about any of that. She says you’re a real ice queen.”

It feels that way. Right now it feels like my heart has sucked some of the polar chill out of the air and is freezing from the inside out. And it freezes all the faster knowing my sister laughed with this beautiful, cold girl over what a bitch I am.

Am I?

I ask that question of myself as I’m standing on the deck shivering, all two of the people I love most in the world inside the party, hurting, without me by their sides.

“How are you any different?” I ask, and my voice comes out way less steady than I hoped it would.

“Me?” Antonia tosses her perfectly coiffed hair. “Well, for one, I actually
do
love your sister so damn much. But we’re young, and I have to know what else is out there. What other opportunities there are. If she and I can survive being apart for a while, I’ll know—
we’ll know
—we can survive anything.”

She gives me a cool stare, but I notice that she pulls her bottom lip in and bites down on it.

“So this is some test break-up?” I ask around a harsh laugh. “Some fucking trial by fire to see if my sister is worthy?”

“Yeah,” she grits back. “Look, I know it probably pisses you off. It should. I mean, you’re her sister. Of course it should. But Ella doesn’t understand how trapped you can feel in this town.” She snakes her arms around her body, takes one last, quick drag of her cigarette, and flicks it into the pure white snow. “She doesn’t have that feeling.” She taps two fingers over her heart. “Like she’s caged up. She’s happy here. But I’m not sure I am.”

Damn it. When I came out here and saw Antonia on the deck, looking so sexy and frigid, I was half hoping I’d redeem myself as a big sister by at least slapping her or giving her a few good shoves in Ella’s honor.

But here I am, completely sympathizing with her.

She’s where I was,
exactly
where I was, by my junior year of high school. My skin felt itchy. I felt like I knew every inch of this tiny town and would be more than happy to never see it again.

I clear my throat.

“She is happy here,” I agree. “And if you’re not, you have to leave. You can’t try to change her. She’s perfect the way she is. But you may need to find your perfect self somewhere other than Vernon. And you can’t string Ella around while you’re at it.”

Antonia looks up from the snow drift she was studying, her eyes wide.

“You think so?”

I wonder if Ella would kill me. I wonder if she’d say she didn’t expect anything better from me. All I know is that this is my truth, and it always made sense to me. My mother understood that in a way Ella didn’t, and it was Mom’s urging that sent me on my way.

So I’m going to share that with this confused, sad girl looking so beautiful and crushed in the falling snow.

I nod.

“Yep. You have to leave and see the world. I wish Ella would at least do that for fun.” I sigh, but that’s a wish for another conversation. “This is the important part, though. You’ll meet new people. People who might be more interesting and wittier and funner than anyone you’ve met before. But finding someone who loves with a heart as open as Ella’s? I don’t know if that will happen for you again.”

She nods, a jerky jump of her head on her delicate neck.

“I’ve thought about that. Actually, I’m afraid of that.”

“And you do run a risk,” I warn. “She’s got an amazing heart, my sister. And she’s head over heels in love with you right now. But that doesn’t mean she’ll be here waiting for you when you’re done figuring your shit out without her. She might have found someone else by then.”

I shiver, and, as if on cue, Antonia wraps her arms around her body.

We could get off the damn porch, go inside like two rational humans who don’t want hypothermia, but the mini blizzard seems like the perfect place to have this conversation from start to finish.

“I know,” she croaks. Her shoulders fold in a little, and she looks so much more petite and frail than she did five minutes ago. “Love hurts, right?” she says, the bitter edge like a vein of granite under her words.

I think about the way she accepts pain and hurt as a natural part of love. It’s like the flip side of the same coin I carry—the one that says it’s just easier to keep things on ice, hold everyone at arm’s length than it is to draw people close and open up.

“Maybe.” I lock eyes with her. Her lashes are frosted with a thin veil of white snowflakes. “I’m not honestly the best person to ask. I’m kind of a massive screw-up when it comes to love. But I do know that living in fear of how good love can feel is just going to wind up a self-fulfilling prophecy. You’ll eventually push everyone away and wind up alone.”

“No one thinks I’m good enough for Ella anyway,” she says, her words daring me to object.

“Don’t look at me to tell you otherwise,” I say, letting a tiny smile creep over my face. I like this girl, but I don’t like the way she’s handling my sister’s heart. Even if I probably know why she’s doing what she’s doing. “I love Ella. I want someone brave enough to love her back the way she deserves to be loved. If that’s you, then you’re good enough, and everyone will accept you on Ella’s behalf.”

The top of her curls and her bangs are crystallized in a halo of newly fallen snow.

“You’re not like she said.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I don’t know if I ever let her know how I feel about all this. I guess I should.” Before she can say anything else, I nod toward the patio doors. “Come inside. I can’t pretend to be badass anymore. I’m freezing.”

She gives a shaky laugh and jogs over to me gracefully in her high heels. I hold the door open for her. She brushes the snow off her shoulders, then turns and grabs me suddenly. Her hug is fierce and smells like flowery musk and swirling snow.

“Thanks,” she whispers, then pulls away and clicks into the house on her heels, I’m sure pretending she’s not nursing a heart as broken and confused as my sister’s.

As mine.

I walk through the party, looking for Trent and Ella, and it doesn’t take long to find them. She’s laughing loud with a group of girls, tossing back a drink that’s very pink and very full. Trent stands against the wall, arms crossed, face stony. Like a bodyguard.

My heart thuds and—like a kid looking through a kaleidoscope—something shifts and every color, every shape changes.

Maybe it’s the comedown from being almost frozen through or the talk I had with the beautiful and unexpectedly soft Antonia, but I feel like I’m seeing everything with a new clarity. And I can’t stop thinking about this month I have here. This long stretch of days I have with nothing to do but see if the advice I gave Antonia might possibly apply to me.

Maybe I’m not the ice queen everyone thinks I am. Maybe—just maybe—this month isn’t going to be about me being stranded back home. Maybe this really is a chance for me to see if my life—my destiny—has been right here in Vernon, right here with the people I loved and left, all along.

And then I, Sadie Sebastiana Jellico, who prides myself in being logical and realistic, look around for a sign. Some sign that here, in Jeremy Stinson’s house, at this slightly sad rager where people are too loud and too drunk, my life is about to change in a way that’s finally good and right.

My eyes zero in on Trent. Who catches my glance and stares back.

His eyes go soft, then wild with hunger.

He reaches behind his back and pulls out my coat, holds it up, lets me know he’s taking care of me.

All the breath rushes out of my body in a dizzy stream. I’m across the room from him, afraid to make a move, afraid to come when he beckons.

Because everything has tilted, and I finally see Trent clearly.

And I see, without a single doubt, without a single second of hesitation, that he’s too damn good for me. That even if, in this moment, I ignore my family’s warnings, stop screwing with his heart, and commit already, I might be too late.

I might have never been on time for someone as amazing as Trent.

He might be looking through a kaleidoscope of his own. He might be seeing me as the ice queen everyone assumes I am. This assumption, of course, would be based on the cold, heartless way I’ve acted for such a long time.

That fear grips me by the shoulders and shakes me hard. I’m ready to bolt, to run again because I don’t have what it takes to stand up and look love in its scary, all-consuming eyes. But those aren’t the eyes I wind up looking into after all.

I wind up looking into Trent’s.

And what I see isn’t scary. And if it’s all-consuming, I’m ready to be consumed by him.

What I see is the open, honest love I’ve taken for granted for such a long time, now I don’t know what to do with it.

How to take it.

But it helps when Trent crooks a finger. When I have a direction to point my feet. I glide across the room, weaving around bodies that bump and jostle on either side of me, and when I finally get to his side, he drapes the coat over my shoulders and pulls me close to him.

I am currently undeserving of his love.

I am currently on a mission to change that. To
earn
his love.

Right now, I just lay a head on his chest and wish I could be in his arms forever.

Which sounds less like a sappy high school girl’s wet dream and more like the only possible way my life will be complete as I immerse myself in the thud of his heart under my ear.

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