Read Online Taking the Ice (Ice Series Book 3) by Jennifer Comeaux - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Comeaux
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perfect time to give it to you.”
I tore away the gold paper and flipped over the picture frame. Two photos filled the front of the red frame. The one on the right I recognized immediately — a shot of Josh and me in our Team USA jackets at our first competition together. The picture on the left also showed us in our team jackets, but we were teenagers. It took me a few seconds to place the scene, and when I did I looked up at Josh with disbelief.
“How did you get this picture? And did you crop out the old lady?” I laughed.
“The day after we took it I—“
Josh’s phone rang on the bed, and he leaned back to see the screen. “It’s one of my students’ moms. Sorry, I’d better get it.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
While he answered the call, I gazed at the photo and smiled as memories of that morning at nationals in Atlanta ten years ago flooded over me.
“What do you want to do today to celebrate?” Mom asked as we finished breakfast in the hotel restaurant. “A national championship deserves something very special.”
I smiled and drank the last of my chocolate milk. My partner Mark and I had finally reached the top of the podium, winning the junior title in pairs. It had been the highlight of my fifteen-year life.
“Maybe we can go shopping… and look at iPods?” I gave Mom a hopeful grin.
“We might be able to do that.”
I did a jig in my seat and folded my linen napkin. “I’m gonna get some more fruit.”
I headed over to the buffet but stopped when I saw Josh Tucker, one of my competitors, looking at the fruit selection. He was a year older than me and SO freaking cute with his shaggy dark hair and clear blue eyes. But we’d hardly spoken since we’d played Seven Minutes in Heaven (or rather, Seven Minutes in Hell) two years ago. I’d wanted him to be my first kiss so badly, but all we’d shared were seven minutes of near silence. Even though Josh was a super quiet guy, I’d hoped he would make just a little move on me. I’d gotten nothing.
Normally I didn’t go out of my way to talk to him because I still felt weird about that night, but I was feeling especially confident with my new champion status. I grabbed a small plate and hopped up to Josh’s side.
“I’ll fight you for that last piece of cantaloupe.”
He looked startled, and he fumbled the silver tongs and dropped them on the bar, causing a loud clang. “You can umm… you can have it.”
“I was just joking,” I said with a little laugh.
He echoed my laugh but with a nervous edge. “I know, but you… it’s yours.”
He offered me the tongs, keeping his head down. I reached for them, and our fingers brushed, sparking tingles from my scalp to my toes. Josh finally looked up at me, for only a few seconds, but the light in his eyes was enough for the tingles to flush my cheeks.
“Thanks.” I dipped my own head, suddenly not feeling so confident anymore.
“Excuse me.” An older lady tapped the arm of Josh’s Team USA jacket. “Can I get a picture with you and your partner?”
She motioned to me, and Josh and I both stammered while talking over each other.
“I’m not—“
“She’s not—“
“I’m not his partner,” I finished.
“Oh, sorry about that. Too many faces to keep straight,” she said.
“We can still take a picture with you,” Josh said.
I raised my eyebrows, but the lady was already handing her camera to the elderly man with her. Josh and I set down our plates, and I waited for the woman to stand between us, but Josh led her to his opposite side so he was in the middle.
Next to me.
He hesitated a moment and then stretched his arm across my shoulders. It was wiry but solid. I inched closer and curved mine around his waist, slotting perfectly into the nook of his body.
Holy Romeo, he smelled good.
The scent of his cologne was slightly sweet and made me light-headed. I barely registered the camera flash firing. I was too busy picturing Josh putting his other arm around me and
I tore away the gold paper and flipped over the picture frame. Two photos filled the front of the red frame. The one on the right I recognized immediately — a shot of Josh and me in our Team USA jackets at our first competition together. The picture on the left also showed us in our team jackets, but we were teenagers. It took me a few seconds to place the scene, and when I did I looked up at Josh with disbelief.
“How did you get this picture? And did you crop out the old lady?” I laughed.
“The day after we took it I—“
Josh’s phone rang on the bed, and he leaned back to see the screen. “It’s one of my students’ moms. Sorry, I’d better get it.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
While he answered the call, I gazed at the photo and smiled as memories of that morning at nationals in Atlanta ten years ago flooded over me.
“What do you want to do today to celebrate?” Mom asked as we finished breakfast in the hotel restaurant. “A national championship deserves something very special.”
I smiled and drank the last of my chocolate milk. My partner Mark and I had finally reached the top of the podium, winning the junior title in pairs. It had been the highlight of my fifteen-year life.
“Maybe we can go shopping… and look at iPods?” I gave Mom a hopeful grin.
“We might be able to do that.”
I did a jig in my seat and folded my linen napkin. “I’m gonna get some more fruit.”
I headed over to the buffet but stopped when I saw Josh Tucker, one of my competitors, looking at the fruit selection. He was a year older than me and SO freaking cute with his shaggy dark hair and clear blue eyes. But we’d hardly spoken since we’d played Seven Minutes in Heaven (or rather, Seven Minutes in Hell) two years ago. I’d wanted him to be my first kiss so badly, but all we’d shared were seven minutes of near silence. Even though Josh was a super quiet guy, I’d hoped he would make just a little move on me. I’d gotten nothing.
Normally I didn’t go out of my way to talk to him because I still felt weird about that night, but I was feeling especially confident with my new champion status. I grabbed a small plate and hopped up to Josh’s side.
“I’ll fight you for that last piece of cantaloupe.”
He looked startled, and he fumbled the silver tongs and dropped them on the bar, causing a loud clang. “You can umm… you can have it.”
“I was just joking,” I said with a little laugh.
He echoed my laugh but with a nervous edge. “I know, but you… it’s yours.”
He offered me the tongs, keeping his head down. I reached for them, and our fingers brushed, sparking tingles from my scalp to my toes. Josh finally looked up at me, for only a few seconds, but the light in his eyes was enough for the tingles to flush my cheeks.
“Thanks.” I dipped my own head, suddenly not feeling so confident anymore.
“Excuse me.” An older lady tapped the arm of Josh’s Team USA jacket. “Can I get a picture with you and your partner?”
She motioned to me, and Josh and I both stammered while talking over each other.
“I’m not—“
“She’s not—“
“I’m not his partner,” I finished.
“Oh, sorry about that. Too many faces to keep straight,” she said.
“We can still take a picture with you,” Josh said.
I raised my eyebrows, but the lady was already handing her camera to the elderly man with her. Josh and I set down our plates, and I waited for the woman to stand between us, but Josh led her to his opposite side so he was in the middle.
Next to me.
He hesitated a moment and then stretched his arm across my shoulders. It was wiry but solid. I inched closer and curved mine around his waist, slotting perfectly into the nook of his body.
Holy Romeo, he smelled good.
The scent of his cologne was slightly sweet and made me light-headed. I barely registered the camera flash firing. I was too busy picturing Josh putting his other arm around me and
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