Once Upon an Ice Queen (Instalove in the City Book 3)

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Once Upon an Ice Queen (Instalove in the City Book 3) Page 13

by Maggie Dallen


  It wasn’t.

  It was an apt description for the feeling that kept recurring in her chest. A splitting, searing pain every time her stupid brain thought about Caleb—the fact that he was currently falling in love with Emma, most likely. Or the look on his face when she’d kicked him out of her office. Or the way he’d made her laugh till her stomach hurt by doing impressions of all the other interns.

  Man, he was funny. And smart, in his own weird way. And talented, in a way no one could deny.

  Was he aimless? Yeah, maybe, but he’d figure it out. She didn’t doubt that. He had too much to offer and if the internship proved anything it was that he had the humility and the work ethic to go after and attain anything he wanted.

  Even if what he wanted was Emma.

  Another wave of sobs bubbled up and spilled over. Oh man, crying was painful. It was no wonder she avoided it like the plague. Whoever those weirdos were who voluntarily sobbed their way through tearjerkers, they were clearly masochists.

  She flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She shouldn’t have come home. There was nothing here to distract her from Caleb.

  But then that was just another reason why what she’d done today was for the best. She needed to end this before she got any more involved.

  Too late, her tired, swollen eyes seemed to say. You’re already in as deep as you can get.

  Seriously, how much worse could it get?

  Her answer came in the form of a knock at the door. She ignored it. If it was Emma and she’d forgotten her keys again, she’d text. She couldn’t even face her friend right now. She loved Emma to death and wished her nothing but the best in life… but if she and Caleb fell in love?

  She wasn’t sure they could ever be friends again.

  That thought made her whimper pitifully as she blinked back more tears. Ugh, she was pathetic.

  No texts dinged on her phone but another knock sounded on the door, louder and more insistent this time.

  She could ignore it. Or…maybe it was Caleb. Her heart soared. But then again, maybe it was Caleb. Her heart plummeted. She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be him or not. She was so confused.

  Fresh tears threatened. She didn’t know if she could keep up the defenses around him, and he was too sweet. Too nice. Once he saw her tears, he’d be impossible to resist. He’d want to cheer her up and coddle her and—

  “Kennedy, it’s me,” his voice boomed through her front door. “I know you’re in there. Let me in.”

  She found herself getting up and moving toward the door without thought. She’d never heard Caleb raise his voice before and it was shock more than anything that had her scrambling to see what was wrong. Even though she knew what was wrong.

  Her.

  Them.

  Everything.

  She swallowed down another pitiful wail as she reached for the knob. Way to think cheerful thoughts there, Kennedy.

  Caleb didn’t wait until the door was fully open before he stormed past her, into the apartment and straight toward her couch where they’d spent so much time talking and laughing and cuddling and…

  Oh crap, she was going to tear up all over again.

  “What are you doing?” she called after him. “And where’s Emma?”

  “Hopefully enjoying a drink with Ken,” he said, spinning around once he reached the couch.

  “Who’s Ken?” she asked automatically.

  “Nice guy from the production department.” He crossed his arms and studied her, taking in her appearance, which she shuddered to imagine. She couldn’t even bring herself to look in the mirror for fear of what she might find. When she’d come home she’d gone into total comfort mode, pulling on her coziest flannel pajamas, despite the fact that it wasn’t even dark yet, taking her hair out of its pins and letting the tears flow, despite the fact that she was so not a pretty crier. She was probably a swollen, puffy mess.

  “Kennedy, you are so unbelievably beautiful.” Somehow he made it sound like an indictment.

  He was angry, she realized with a start. She’d never seen him angry. Not really. Wow. It was hot.

  He was a living, breathing, brooding warrior, glowering at her with those gorgeous eyes.

  Who had she been trying to fool? The man was hotter than hot. And a celebrity… sort of. At least he used to be. At what point had she allowed herself to believe that he truly wanted her?

  She shook her head. It didn’t matter, because she didn’t want him either. They didn’t work. Neither of them fit the bill.

  She pressed her lips together. When had she forgotten that?

  And more importantly, why was Emma with some guy named Ken? Her hopes were stupid creatures, jumping up and panting at the merest whiff of a future with this guy.

  When had this happened? Her inner voice was a pathetic wail. It had been asking the same question over and over since she’d realized the awful truth.

  She’d gone and fallen for Caleb. The guy who was temporary for so many reasons. Mainly because he didn’t want her. He would never want her. He’d basically told her so to her face.

  “What was that back there?” he asked.

  “What was what?” Yeah, that’s right. Play dumb. She’d never played dumb in her life, but apparently now her brain decided to be coy.

  Coy was better than pathetic, logic told her.

  Maybe that was true, but coy did not win her any points with Caleb. He stared at her in disbelief. “Seriously? Are you really going to pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

  She pressed her lips together to avoid answering. Um… yes?

  “Why did you throw me and Emma together like that?” He paused, shaking his head as if words failed him. “Me,” he repeated with great emphasis. “And Emma.”

  He said her name with such contempt she didn’t know whether she wanted to shout with glee or get angry on her friend’s behalf.

  Neither response made sense, but then again nothing about her brain, body, or heart was making sense today. Her well-ordered world had broken out in chaos.

  He smoldered at her. Smoldered like only a former soap opera leading hero could smolder. It was so freakin’ hot. “Answer me this. Were you or were you not trying to set me up on a date with your friend?”

  Ugh. She clutched her stomach as disgust and shame and guilt took hold. When he said it like that, it sounded pretty awful. “Umm…”

  “Because from where I was standing,” he continued. “It definitely looked like the woman I’m dating was trying to foist me off on her roommate.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but found she couldn’t. Because that was exactly what she’d done.

  He took a step toward her and her breath caught in her throat at the fire in his eyes. It was a confusing mix of emotions she saw there. Anger, pain, desire… and something she was afraid to name. Something passionate and deep that matched whatever this was she was feeling.

  Whatever it was, it scared the crap of out her and she was pretty sure it scared him too. She swallowed down some of the kneejerk guilt and tried to force reason back into action. Maybe it scared them because they knew it was wrong. They both knew it didn’t make sense.

  He was waiting for her to speak, but she didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t hurt them both. She ended up opting for the truth. “I got scared.”

  He blinked at her and after a heartbeat, she watched some of the anger fade. But what that left behind didn’t ease her fears, it only made it worse.

  “We agreed,” she said, hearing the note of panic in her voice. Her tone was close to pleading. “We agreed that this,” she said gesturing between them. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  He nodded, his gaze still uncharacteristically serious and intense and filled with more than she dared to hope for. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense.”

  She nodded too, trying desperately to hold back tears. Dang it, she didn’t want him to agree with her. She’d let herself hope for a second there that he
might argue with her, try to convince her that they could work.

  He took another step toward her hesitantly, as if afraid she might back away. She didn’t. Who knew how much time she’d have left alone with this man—she wanted to savor every ridiculous, heartbreaking, nonsensical second. Some part of her brain was busy storing away memories for a later date. Her senses were taking stock of the way he smelled, that mysterious and complex emotion in his eyes, of the way his lips curved up even when he looking at her like that.

  “I love you.” He said it so simply and so...quickly. Her brain had been so busy cataloguing these final moments, she’d nearly missed it.

  Then it took another second for the words to register and her brain to process them. Something about their utter simplicity floored her. There was no rationalizing or arguing or reasoning, just…

  “I love you.” He said it again, like it was just that easy. Like saying the sky was blue and grass was green.

  She blinked. And then she blinked again, but this time one of the tears she’d been holding back slipped out and rolled down her cheek. And that was it. She was a goner. The floodgates opened and the next thing she knew she was ugly crying all over again, and this time it was all over Caleb’s T-shirt.

  He’d moved to her so quickly that one second she was standing there facing him through a mist of salty tears, and the next she found herself crushed against him, his face buried in her hair as he murmured soft words of comfort. “Hey, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  He stopped short and she found herself wondering what he’d been about to say. “You didn’t mean what?”

  He hadn’t meant he loved her. It was too crazy. She wasn’t who he wanted and she couldn’t expect him to just change that for her.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said.

  Oh. That… that was better than what she’d been thinking. She sniffled against his shirt.

  “Kennedy?” he asked after a long moment.

  “Yeah?” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him with her swollen eyes and snotty nose.

  “Do you love me too?”

  Oh crap. Her heart melted right then and there. He sounded so genuine and so vulnerable. He was laying himself out there for her… and she still didn’t quite believe that any of this was real. How could it be?

  But whether she trusted in it or not, he deserved the truth. She pushed back and brushed her sleeve roughly over her face to sop up some of the crying mess. Meeting his gaze head on, she nodded. “I think I do.”

  His grin was everything. It was sexy and sweet, dangerous and comforting. It was filled with humor and happiness and determination. “Say it.”

  She swallowed then licked her lips. Finally she shook her head. “I can’t.”

  He didn’t look disappointed, just amused. “Why not?”

  She widened her eyes, trying to convey just exactly how insane she believed him to be. “Because it’s nuts, Caleb! This is crazy.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I had a feeling maybe you were struggling with that part.”

  “What part? The part where we both agreed from the get go that we are exactly what we don’t want in a significant other?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, that part.”

  She pushed back so she could cross her arms and fix him with her fiercest interviewer stare. “Are you going to try and tell me that all of the sudden I just magically became your dream girl?” Before he could answer she laughed humorlessly. “Poof! I instantly went from a sarcastic ice queen to a sweet animal lover.”

  He grinned. “I don’t want a sweet animal lover,” he said. “I want you.”

  This guy sure knew how to take the wind out of her sails. She opened her mouth, ready to protest some more, but he tugged her close, forcing her arms apart so he could resume holding her without interference.

  “I was an idiot,” he said. “I couldn’t see the perfection that was staring me in the face.”

  She let out a breathless laugh. “Perfection, huh?”

  “Well,” he rolled his eyes with a grin. “Perfection for me. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  She smiled up at him. “Too late. I’m perfect. You said so, it’s official.”

  He groaned, but his grin never faltered. “I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”

  Her smile faded a bit as her original nerves returned. “How do I know this isn’t just hormones talking? I mean, no one is denying the chemistry between us and—”

  “Is that what this is for you?” he challenged. “Just something physical?”

  She didn’t have to think. The answer was no. This went so beyond chemistry. The thought of him with another woman made her heart feel like shredded wheat. The way he looked at her made her feel like she could conquer the world.

  The way they were together… well, despite the fact that it didn’t work on paper, it worked in real life. They complemented one another in some strange way. She sniffled as she took in this face which was so hot and so infinitely dear to her. Maybe he needed someone who was pragmatic just like maybe her life could use a romantic.

  Maybe the reason opposites attracted was because they evened each other out.

  Taking a deep breath, she admitted the truth to herself. Being with Caleb had made her feel more alive, like the world was filled with possibilities she’d never known, or at least had forgotten about sometime between childhood and now. He made her feel impulsive, he made her want to laugh, and smile, and play hooky every once in a while just because she could.

  It wasn’t her. But then again… maybe it was. Just like there was more to Caleb than just the sexy soaps star. He wasn’t a stereotype and neither was she. He helped her become a fuller version of herself and maybe he needed her to do the same for him.

  The fact that she’d manage to find some reason in this chaotic, emotional mess made the last of her fears fade. Yes, it might be crazy but there was a method to this madness.

  She watched anxiety cloud his gaze at her silence. “You don’t think that, do you? You don’t think it’s just physical attraction?”

  She shook her head quickly, hating that she’d given him a moment of doubt. “No,” she said. “What I feel for you goes way beyond chemistry.”

  His smug grin was back once more and she wished she could remember that smile, the look in his eyes, everything about this moment for the rest of her life. This, she decided, was what it meant to be truly happy. This was bliss.

  “So what is it between us then?” he asked, knowing full well the answer but she couldn’t fault him for wanting to hear it. Hearing it from him had flipped her world upside down and made everything feel possible.

  He deserved no less.

  “It’s love,” she said, her heart clenching in her chest at the pure joy on his face. Leaning in closer she went up on tiptoe so she could plant a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Caleb Jennings.”

  He leaned down until his forehead was resting against hers. “Of course you do.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, feigning a stern tone.

  “Too late,” he said, imitating her voice too well, she had to admit. “You love me. You said so, it’s official.”

  She laughed, sighing as she imitated him in return. “I’ve created a monster haven’t I?”

  He nodded, kissing her with all of the emotions she saw in his gaze. “Totally.”

  She grinned.

  She was totally okay with that.

  Epilogue

  Caleb and Yvette sat beside one another in the same booth where they had decidedly not celebrated Valentine’s Day. But this time, he was in fantastic mood. Partly because he wasn’t sporting an itchy beard, but mainly because his life was pretty perfect.

  He’d finally found his one true love and he was once again gainfully employed as an actor. Well, as a clown. Close enough.

  “What are you grinning about, Bobo?” Yvette asked as she reached past him to pass Kennedy the bowl of chips.

 
He shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I be happy? It’s my birthday.” Though, he could admit that even for the birthday boy, he was grinning like a fool. But he didn’t care. Life was good and if that meant he was going to permanently wear this dopey smile, he was cool with it.

  Yvette and Kat had swapped out the Doctor Hottie nickname for Bobo now that he was officially a clown. Yeah, that’s right—he was the new Mr. Hermithead, and he couldn’t have been happier about it. Once his pride got over itself, he realized that it was the funnest job he’d ever had. Just like his daytime soap gig, he got paid to act and help people escape, though now his demographic was slightly younger and as far as he could tell, they couldn’t give a crap what his pecs looked like beneath his ridiculous outfit.

  Some parents watched him too, and over the last few months he’d accrued a small but loyal fan base among the moms who watched him with their kids. The best part about that? It drove his girlfriend nuts.

  No one had ever been jealous over him before and he found that he loved it.

  Kennedy had insisted on throwing him a thirtieth birthday party and he’d insisted that it be just them and his closest friends at his favorite bar. The perfect start to the next decade of his life. It had been a close call there for a while. He’d been certain his thirties were doomed to be an extension of his twenties—one big experiment in searching for the wrong things.

  Like his dream woman, for example. She was as mythical as she was boring. He grinned when Kennedy stole a wing from his plastic basket—it was his favorite bar, but definitely not the classiest.

  He watched her munch on his food, giving him a little smirk at her conquest. Who would have thought his one true love would be a challenging, career-obsessed woman who didn’t like animals or kids?

  Not him. He’d been such an idiot to think he could predict love like that. Luckily Kennedy seemed to have a soft spot for dopes in clown suits.

  Besides, it wasn’t like she could judge too harshly, what with her weird checklist for the perfect, most logical boyfriend. As if logic had anything to do with love. Ha! He wrapped an around her shoulders, reveling in the happiness that was this group.

 

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