Heat it Up: Off the Ice - Book One by Stina Lindenblatt Read Free Book Online Page B

us?”
    “Should I be?”
    “Why wouldn’t you be? We’re not bad looking.”
    I snort. “Shallow much?”
    “I was just getting started on our virtues,” Kyle says, grinning in a way that should be illegal. It’s breath-stealing-adorable and he’s not playing fair. “Or at least my virtues. I can’t vouch for the rest of his.”
    I laugh. I can’t help it. “Okay, what are your virtues?” Not that it changes anything.
    “Well, obviously I’m funny.”
    I laugh again.
    “See? I make ’em laugh every time.”
    “That doesn’t count.”
    “Why not?”
    “It just doesn’t. Next.” I move around a woman pushing a stroller as we continue along the sidewalk. Quaint low-rise buildings made of brick, with stores on the lower level, line both sides of the busy city street. A tram rambles past.
    “I’m great at chasing assholes away while you’re cleaning the sauna,” he points out. “Doesn’t that make me the protector of your virtue?”
    I bite my lip to keep from laughing. It doesn’t work.
    “Told you I’m funny.”
    I shove him on the arm. “Keep going.”
    “I’m a great kisser, right?”
    “And immodest too.” I point left at the intersecting street, desperate to change the topic, hoping he hasn’t noticed my now flushed face. I don’t need to start thinking about how great his kisses are. I’m trying to forget them, not relive them. “This way.”
    We turn down the street as Kyle says, “And let’s not forget that I know all kinds of useful facts about physics.”
    “So you’re gonna get me all hot and bothered with your sexy physics talk?” My hands fly to my face. Oh God! I can’t believe I said that .
    He gently removes my hands from my face. The grin on his face is the sun shining on a cold winter day. “Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to kiss you after that comment.” He leans down, his lips inches from mine. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t even think. All I can do is stand still as his breath caresses my face.
    But just as I think he’s going to kiss me—and I’m not sure if I should let him or not—someone bumps into my side and sends me flying. Before I have to make an emergency crash landing on the sidewalk, and suffer from a serious case of road rash, I catch my footing and straighten at the same moment Kyle reaches out to grab my arm.
    A homeless guy, who smells of alcohol and puke, sways on his feet and yells in Finnish at me. Kyle’s face darkens as he glares at the guy.
    I snatch hold of Kyle’s hand and pull him away. “It’s not worth getting into a fight over. He’s so drunk, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
    Kyle threads his hand with mine, preventing us from being separated again. Ian didn’t hold my hand very often, so this feels odd yet nice.
    “We’re almost there.” I continue walking.
    We cross the street and I inhale the briny smell of the Baltic Sea ahead of us. “There.” I point at the crowded pier where well over fifty booths are set up. Canopies of various colors keep the rain and sun off the merchandise. In the distance, a tall, majestic church stands proud, its green steeples reaching to the sky. Seagulls shriek overhead, looking for discarded food. “That’s the famous marketplace.”
    A long historic building made of yellow and red bricks, and with tall white wooden doors, sits near the open market. I lead Kyle there first. Inside, the air is filled with an assortment of aromas, most notably the pungent smell of fresh fish. We wander down the aisle. On either side, booths beckon us, each one specializing in a different food item. Meats. Cheeses. Fish. Baked goods. Open-faced sandwiches. Desserts.
    Kyle buys bread, Edam cheese, and thinly-sliced, processed reindeer meat, which I convinced him to try. We then walk outside and check out the other booths, which sell mainly fresh fruits, mushrooms, and vegetables. I buy peas, still in their pods, and tomatoes for Muumu. Kyle buys strawberries.
    After we