Authors: Jennifer Estep

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Action & Adventure, #Survival Stories, #Paranormal, #General

Kiss of Frost (11 page)

BOOK: Kiss of Frost

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“I am now,” I said, smiling at him.

Preston grinned at me again. “Good. You know, I was hoping I’d see you here tonight, Gwen.”

Gwen
. Even the way he said my name was sexy, as if his good looks and muscled body didn’t make him cute enough already. Okay, okay, so maybe part of my heart stubbornly insisted that Preston’s voice didn’t have quite the same husky ring to it that Logan’s did whenever the Spartan called me “Gypsy girl.” But Logan was inside with another girl, and I was out here with Preston. Maybe Daphne was right. Maybe it was time to find someone to take my mind off Logan—and I thought Preston would do quite nicely.

“I was hoping that I’d see you, too,” I said.

We stood there staring at each other. The glow from the coffee shop and the Christmas lights highlighted Preston’s smooth skin and perfect features, making him look older, more handsome, and slightly dangerous. He just kept staring at me, as if he thought I was just as gorgeous as he was. I wasn’t, of course, but I still liked the attention, even if a hot, furious blush worked its way into my cheeks as a result.

A few feet away, a couple who’d been making out on an iron bench next to the coffeehouse finally got up. Their lips never broke contact as they walked toward the hotel.

Preston jerked his head in that direction. “Shall we?”

I nodded. We walked over and sat down on the bench. Preston leaned back and stretched his arm out across the top of the bench, almost like he was putting it around my shoulders. We both had on jackets, and he was wearing gloves, so there was no danger of me getting any kind of vibe off him. Still, I liked being close to him.

For a moment I wondered what would happen if I leaned over and brushed my fingers against Preston’s face. What I would see and feel if I used my Gypsy gift to flash on him. Guys were so hard to read, especially supercute ones like Preston, and my magic was basically my own personal, built-in lie and bullshit detector. My psychometry would let me know what he really thought of me. If he thought I was pretty or funny or a total freak. If he really liked me or was thinking about someone else or was just sitting here with me because he thought he might get laid.

The temptation to find out the answers was so strong that it made my fingers twitch with anticipation, but I forced myself to stick my hands into my jacket pockets. I wasn’t going to do that, I wasn’t going to use my magic that way. I wasn’t going to pull secrets out of people just because I had the power to do so, just because I wanted to know what they were up to. It was a decision I’d made a few weeks back, when I’d realized Logan had a secret he was hiding from me—one that was keeping us apart.

Besides, tonight I wanted something—something simple, easy, uncomplicated, and yeah, totally romantic, too. I thought that sitting on a bench with a cute guy and watching the flakes of snow gather in his white blond hair
de finitely
qualified as romantic.

“So you go to Mythos down here in the South,” Preston said. “What year are you?”

“Second-year. You?”

“Fourth,” he said.

That would make him nineteen then, two years older than me. Not too old at all.

“So what are you?” I asked. “Spartan? Roman? Some other kind of warrior whiz kid?”

Preston shook his head, and his face seemed to darken for a moment before he answered me. “Nope, I’m just a Viking. I have a younger sister, too, but, of course, she’s a Valkyrie.”

I nodded. Siblings shared the same blood and heritage in warrior families, just like they did in normal mortal families, but the kids weren’t always labeled as the same kind of warriors. Usually, the boys were Vikings, while the girls were Valkyries. Or if the boys were Romans, then the girls were Amazons. Then there were some warrior families where it was all the same, where both the boys and the girls were considered to be Spartans, Samurais, Ninjas, or whatever. Daphne had tried to explain it to me one day, but I hadn’t really understood.

“And I’m definitely not a whiz kid,” Preston continued. “At least not according to my parents whenever the academy e-mails them my grades. I’m currently flunking myth-history, just like I did last semester and the one before that.”

“Aw, don’t feel too bad,” I said in a teasing tone. “I’m even worse off. I’m pretty much failing gym right now. Seriously, failing gym. How lame is that?”

We looked at each other, and we both started laughing. His deep, sexy voice, my lighter one. I liked the way they sounded together.

“So you’re failing gym—why?” Preston asked. “Do they do something different down here at the Southern academy that they don’t do up in New York?”

I shrugged. “Probably not. I’m just not all that coordinated. What about you?”

Preston shrugged as well. “I’m pretty good with a sword, but I kind of suck when it comes to some of the other weapons. And I absolutely despise archery. My aim is just never any good.”

I flashed back to the arrow thunking into the bookcase a foot away from my head in the Library of Antiquities. “I don’t like archery much either.”

We just started talking after that, about the two academies and the differences between them, about our classes and professors, about music and movies and sports and books. I liked Preston. He was smart, funny, and charming—and so totally
gorgeous
.

Part of me still couldn’t believe that he didn’t have a girlfriend—and that he was hanging out with me instead of going into the coffee shop and finding someone cuter to flirt with. Someone like Morgan, who would have probably already asked him to go back to her room. But I wasn’t about to complain. For once, I was having a good time, and I was going to enjoy it as long as it lasted.

We’d been sitting on the bench talking for about half an hour when the snow started to pick up, coming down in a thick shower of fat, fluffy flakes. For some reason, the snow made me think of Nike. It was cold, beautiful, and dangerous all at the same time, just like the goddess of victory.

A shiver swept through my body, and I realized that my nose and cheeks had gone numb from sitting outside. Preston noticed my shiver. He scooted closer, wrapped his arm around me, and stared into my eyes. For a second, I thought he might lean forward and kiss me. My heart thumped up into my throat in anticipation. Part of me wanted him to—and part of me still wished it was Logan out here with me instead.

“You want to get out of here?” Preston asked in a soft voice. “Maybe go somewhere warmer and ... talk?”

I didn’t know if he really meant talk, make out, or something else completely, but I’d be happy with any one of them. I smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 11

Preston got to his feet and held out his hand. I slipped my bare fingers into his palm, enjoying the smooth feel of his glove on my skin. A second later, my pscyhometry kicked in and showed me an image of Preston sitting in a dark car and pulling on the black gloves.

No big whoop. It was exactly the kind of thing I’d expected to see, exactly the kind of thing I had seen hundreds of times before when touching someone’s clothes. Usually, I barely noticed those sorts of flashes, although this time, I felt like there was more to the memory, something hovering right at the edge of my mind. Something important ...

Before I could focus on it, Preston pulled me to the right. Instead of going toward the hotel, he was heading around the side of the building and the shadows there. My heart thumped even faster in my chest. If he took me back there and tried to kiss me, I was
so
going to let him—

The door to the coffee shop jangled opened, and Logan stepped outside.

Logan’s sudden appearance startled me so much that I let go of Preston’s hand. The beginning of the glove memory, whatever it had been, vanished as soon as I broke contact. And of course, I slipped on that stupid patch of black ice again. This time, I managed to catch myself before I fell on my ass.

Logan reached out a hand to help me, but I waved him off. One, because I’d embarrassed myself enough already. And two, because he wasn’t wearing gloves. If I touched Logan’s bare skin, I didn’t know what kind of flash I’d get off him. I certainly didn’t want to see him kissing Savannah or something else like that. I’d already witnessed
that
enough times in real life. Besides, I might discover how he felt about the Amazon, and if my magic told me that he really cared about her, well, that would only hurt me even more.

Logan saw my wary look at his outstretched fingers. His hand curled into a tight fist, and he dropped it to his side. Not too long ago, the Spartan had tried to kiss me, but just before our lips had touched, I’d realized I’d flash on him when he did—and that maybe I wouldn’t like what I’d see.

I hadn’t known Logan all that well back then, and I’d been afraid that I’d sense that he was laughing at me or just kissing me because he felt sorry for me, because he thought I was a total loser freak or would be an easy lay. He did have a reputation as a man-whore, after all, and those weren’t exactly the sort of things you wanted to feel when you were making out with the cute guy you liked. I had some experience with that, since I’d once flashed on Drew Squires, my first and only boyfriend, and had realized that he was thinking about another girl while he was kissing me. I’d dumped Drew right then and there, but that still hadn’t taken away my pain.

So I’d pulled back that night from Logan at the very last second—and I’d hurt his feelings because of it. He’d thought I hadn’t wanted to kiss him because he was a Spartan, because they had a reputation for being so vicious and violent. I’d tried to explain about my psychometry magic, but he hadn’t understood. From the dark expression on his face, it looked like he didn’t understand right now either.

“Gypsy girl,” Logan said, staring at Preston instead of me. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Preston. Preston, Logan. Logan goes to the North Carolina academy with me,” I said.

Preston held out his hand, which Logan reluctantly took and shook. I’d thought this would be the end of things and that Logan would head back inside to the party and Savannah, but instead the Spartan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the side of the building. Like he expected Preston and me to stay put and talk to him or something. Weird. Very weird.

“Spartan?” Preston asked, eyeing Logan’s relaxed stance.

Logan nodded. He didn’t ask what Preston was, which I thought was kind of rude. I might not know all the ins and outs of Mythos Academy, but sharing what kind of warrior you were was one of the main conversation starters between the kids at the different branches. I’d heard tons of them ask each other that question up on the ski slopes today, and I’d chatted with a few of the New York students myself. At least until they’d all started staring at me and asking me what kind of warrior a Gypsy really was and what kind of power I had.

It wasn’t exactly a hush-hush secret that Gypsies were people gifted with magic by the gods, but it wasn’t common knowledge either. Most of the kids and even some of the professors at Mythos thought I was just a different kind of warrior, which technically, I guess I was. I didn’t really understand why so few people had heard of Gypsies before. It was something I kept meaning to ask Grandma Frost or Professor Metis about.

“Well, Logan,” I said in a bright voice. “I’m sure you want to go back inside where it’s warm. Preston and I were just leaving.”

“Oh? Where were you going?” Logan asked. “Maybe I’ll tag along. This party’s getting a little tame. All the beer is gone already.”

I frowned. Why would Logan want to go with Preston and me? I mean, hello, the two of us had been about to disappear into the shadows and totally make out. Logan had to have guessed that. He had plenty of experience in that area. Maybe it was the way the Spartan stared at Preston, with icy, narrowed eyes, but suddenly, the strangest thought filled my mind. Logan wasn’t—he couldn’t be—there was no way that he was
jealous
. Was he?

Preston looked at Logan, then back at me. His eyebrows shot up in his face. He realized something was going on between Logan and me. I wish he’d clue me in on exactly what it was, because I had no idea.

“Actually, I should go check on my friends. They’re over at another party across the village.” Preston turned to me and grinned. “But I’d love to see you tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch?”

My heart lifted, and a matching grin curved my lips. He wanted to see me again. Maybe he really did like me after all. I felt like doing a happy dance, but of course, I was way too cool for that. I’d at least wait until I got back to my hotel room, alone, where no one would see.

“It’s a date,” I said.

We pulled out our cell phones and swapped numbers.

“Just text me when you want to hook up, okay?” I told Preston.

He nodded, then gave me another killer smile. “I will. I had fun tonight, Gwen.”

I smiled back at him. “Me, too.”

For a second, Preston hesitated, like he was going to lean forward and kiss me on the cheek, but then his gaze cut to Logan, and he thought better of it. Preston nodded at me, stuffed his gloved hands into his jacket pockets, and set off across the alpine village.

As soon as he was out of sight, I whirled around and stabbed my finger at Logan, not quite poking him in the chest. “What the hell was that about?”

“What are you doing, Gypsy girl?” Logan asked in a soft voice, instead of answering my question. “You don’t even know that guy.”

My mouth dropped open, and anger burned through my veins, chasing away the chill of the falling snow. “Oh, cut the double-standard bullshit. I’d say I know just as much about Preston as you do about all the girls you’ve slept with. How many mattresses have you signed at Mythos, anyway? I’m willing to bet it’s more than Preston has up in New York.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny any of it. We both knew he had a reputation as a man-whore, whether or not it was actually true.

“What was I doing? I was trying to have some
fun,
” I snapped. “That’s what we’re all here for this weekend, remember? To get totally drunk, wasted, and hook up with random kids from the other academy. According to Daphne, it’s a yearly tradition. Besides, what do you care? You came here with Savannah tonight—not me.”

Logan stared at me, emotions flickering in his bright blue gaze. “I do—I do care,” he finally said, running his hand through his dark hair and melting the flakes of snow that had gathered there. “More than I should. Way more than I should.”

These were the words I’d wanted him to say to me for weeks now, ever since I’d asked him out back in the fall. Even now, they made my whole body quiver with happiness. But I was so angry at him for coming between Preston and me—for butting in when he shouldn’t have and ruining the moment. Who I talked to was none of his damn business. Ditto for who I made out with.

The happiness and anger battled for control in my chest like a pair of ancient Greco-Roman wrestlers. It didn’t take long for the anger to put the happiness in a headlock.

“You care? Really? It sure doesn’t seem like it to me, since every time I turn around, you’re sticking your tongue down Savannah Warren’s throat—right in front of me.”

Logan grimaced. “You don’t understand. I like Savannah just fine, but you’re—you’re different, Gypsy girl. Special. You always have been, ever since that first day when you ran into me out on the quad and gave me a piece of your mind.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Different? Special? Really? If I’m so
special,
if I matter so
much
to you, then why did you turn me down when I wanted to go out? Huh, Logan? Why would you do that if you were
so
into me?”

He didn’t answer, but I could see the anguish flickering in his eyes. The hurt in his face made me want to reach out, to comfort him somehow, but I pushed away the feeling and made my heart as cold as the snow falling around us. I had to be ruthless right now, just like he’d been when he told me that we couldn’t be together, that we couldn’t even go out on one simple date.

“Let me guess. You’re still keeping that big, big secret from me. The one you think I can’t handle. The one that will make me not like you anymore.” I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I don’t want to understand you and your stupid, twisted logic anyway. Just leave me alone, Spartan, and I’ll do the same to you.”

I whirled around and stalked away, heading toward the hotel.

“Gwen. Stop. Please.”

He called me by my name, which meant he was serious. That was the only time he used my name, instead of jokingly referring to me as “Gypsy girl,” the nickname he’d given me the first day we’d met. For once, I was too pissed to care. I kept walking.

But Logan had other ideas. I hadn’t taken three steps before he grabbed my arms and turned me around. Stupid Spartan reflexes. He was so much quicker than I was. It just wasn’t fair, and his grip was too strong for me to easily break. Before I knew it, Logan had backed me up against the corner of the building. We stood in the shadows, out of sight of the windows and the bright glow of lights spilling out of the coffee shop.

Logan’s face was close to mine—so close that his hot breath caressed my cheek. So close that I could see the silvery flecks in his ice blue eyes. So close that I could smell his faint, spicy scent. So close that I could feel the strength of him pressing against me, making me ache for something I knew would be scary and wonderful and heartbreaking all at the same time. Something that made me long to be alone in the dark with him, touching him skin to skin—with no secrets of any kind between us. Just feelings—all these
feelings
.

The flakes of snow kept pouring down, and clouds of frost filled the air between us, our breaths kissing back and forth. Looking at us from a distance, you would have probably thought we were a couple who’d snuck out of the party early to have a little quiet time together. But we weren’t a couple, we weren’t those happy people at all, and that realization made me miserable.

Because even now, I wanted him to kiss me—wanted him to want me just as much as I did him.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Logan said in a low voice. “I just didn’t like seeing you with that other guy. I saw the two of you talking through the window, and when you got up, I knew you were leaving with him.”

“You’re such a damn
hypocrite
. You had no right to come out here and get between us,” I whispered in a fierce voice. “No right at all. Not while you’re with Savannah.”

“I know.”

He didn’t say anything else, and the snow continued to drift down, a curtain shutting out the rest of the world. Even the noise of the party seemed dim and distant now. Or maybe that was because Logan was filling up my senses until there wasn’t room for anything else.

The seconds stretched out and turned into a minute, then two. Still, he didn’t say anything—he just kept looking at me with his blue, blue gaze.

“Kiss me or let me go,” I finally said in a miserable voice, hot tears stinging my eyes. “I don’t care anymore.”

Logan’s face softened. “I never meant to hurt you. That’s the last thing I would ever want to do. I care about you too much for that, Gwen.”

Gwen
. I closed my eyes at the sound of him saying my name. At the faint rumble of his deep, sexy voice. I couldn’t bear to look at him. Maybe it was dark and twisted of me, but right now, for this one second, I wanted to pretend that we
were
a couple. That we really were out here in the dark—alone—together.

“Gwen,” Logan repeated, a faint, pleading note in his voice.

I still didn’t open my eyes. Silence. Then—

“Gwen.” A husky whisper, full of all the longing I felt.

BOOK: Kiss of Frost

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