The Beast On Ice

CHAPTER THREE

Sarah

I didn’t move……it felt like the world froze the moment the door swung open.

Xavier stood there, a towel slung low around his hips, still dripping from a shower. Snow-white steam curled around him, rolling into the hallway like mist from a forbidden world. His chest… God. His chest looked carved, like someone sculpted him out of marble and then decided marble wasn’t good enough. Every line on him was sharp, clean, dangerous. And the way he leaned against the doorframe—like he knew exactly what he looked like and exactly what it did to girls like me—made my throat knot.

I didn’t breathe.

I didn’t blink.

I didn’t even know my own name anymore.

Except I did.

And apparently, so did my traitorous mouth.

“Henry…? It’s me—” I whispered, before my soul left my body.

Xavier’s head tilted. Slowly. Like a predator spotting something fun to chase.

“Well,” he drawled, eyes dragging down my body and back up again, “this is interesting.”

My heart stopped. “I—I got the wrong room.”

“Mm.” His smirk deepened. “Sure you did, princess.”

Princess.

I hated the way my stomach flipped.

Before I could form a single excuse, Xavier’s hand shot out—warm, firm—and wrapped around my arm. I inhaled sharply as he tugged me inside, closing the door behind us with a soft thud that echoed way too loudly in my chest.

The room smelled like cedar soap and something darker—him.

“You know,” he murmured, stepping closer, “I knew you’d come looking for me.”

My brain crashed. “I wasn’t—”

“Done being Henry’s girl?” he finished, eyebrows rising.

I swallowed a scream. “I’m not Henry’s girl.”

“Oh?” Xavier’s grin sharpened. “Then why are you shaking?”

I didn’t even know I was until he said it. My hands trembled against my sides like my body was betraying me in real time.

“I just got the wrong room,” I repeated, louder, as if volume could save me.

He chuckled low, amused. “Wow. So loyal to him.”

I blinked. Loyal? To Henry? To my own brother? If only he knew.

Xavier’s fingers traced down my cheek before I could move, his touch warm enough that sparks shot through my skin. I jerked back, but he followed, slow and deliberate, lowering his head until his breath brushed my jaw.

“What does he have,” he whispered, “that I don’t?”

My breath caught on nothing. My heart slammed. My mind yelled at me to step away, to slap him, to do literally anything except melt into the heat of him.

But my body?

Frozen.

Completely, stupidly frozen.

Xavier’s finger slid down my arm, grazing goosebumps into existence. His eyes lifted to mine—dark, amused, challenging.

“Come on,” he coaxed, “you’re not even gonna give me a chance? One little shot?”

His arrogance snapped something inside me.

“A shot?” I hissed. “Like the one you took when you stole Henry’s girlfriend and slept with her just to toss her aside later?”

His expression twitched—just for a second—but he covered it with a lazy smirk.

“Oh,” he breathed. “So Henry told you.”

“He didn’t need to. The whole camp knows.” My chest rose with anger I didn’t realize I’d been storing. “Not every girl wants to crawl into your bed, Xavier.”

He stared at me. Then—slowly, dangerously—he smiled.

“But you do,” he murmured. “That’s why you’re still in my room. Right?”

My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If you really wanted to leave, you would’ve run already. But here you are… staring.”

“I am not staring!”

He glanced down at my eyes—currently glued to the absolute sin of his torso—and raised a brow.

Traitorous eyes. I hated them.

“I’m leaving,” I snapped, turning sharply.

I made it two steps.

He caught my wrist and pulled me back—right into him.

My breath vanished. His chest was solid heat against my back. Something electric shot down my spine.

“Why are you running?” he whispered against my ear.

“Because you’re a creep,” I said, but my voice betrayed me by trembling.

“A creep?” He laughed softly, sliding a hand to my hip. “No. I just see through you.”

I twisted, shoving at his chest, but he barely budged.

Then he did something that turned my bones to smoke:

He lifted my chin—slowly, teasingly—until my eyes met his.

His lips curled. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not—”

He leaned down, his breath warm on my ear.

Then, softly, shamelessly—

“Are you a virgin?”

I exploded.

“No way! And it’s none of your business!” I shoved him again, harder. “You’re unbelievable! You think every girl wants you? You’re delusional, Xavier!”

He blinked. Then smirked. “Why can’t we just talk, firecracker?”

Firecracker?

Ohh really, that's the name, he just wants to give me now.

“Talk?” I scoffed. “You were literally trying to grab me!”

“Mmm…” He moved again, slow, predatory. “Maybe not. Maybe I was trying to do this—”

His hand reached for my waist.

My foot reacted before my brain.

I kicked him—hard—right in the shin, so hard my toes stung.

Xavier cursed so loud it probably woke the entire building.

“OW—what the—?!” He grabbed his leg, stumbling back as I bolted for the door.

Good.

He deserved that.

I didn’t wait.

I didn’t breathe.

I just ran.

The second I yanked the door open, cold hallway air slapped my face, mixing with the heat burning under my skin. My heartbeat was in my ears, my pulse still tangled with the ghost of his fingers on my jaw.

God.

What the hell was that?

Why did I freeze?

Why did part of me—God help me—like it?

No.

No.

Absolutely not.

I stepped out, trying to gather my thoughts—trying to slow the tremble in my chest—when—

“Sarah?”

My blood froze.

Right there.

Right in front of me.

Henry.

Standing in the hallway.

He was staring at me like he’d walked in on a murder scene—his eyes wide, sharp, horrified. And then they dropped to my messy hair, then to Xavier’s door directly behind me.

I swear I saw color drain from his face.

“Sarah… what the hell are you doing here?” His voice cracked between fear and fury.