Page 25 of Ice Cold Hearts
“What else?” he asks.
“Well, there’s only one more thing, but it might be a deal breaker for you,” I say nervously.
Ian puts his hand over mine. It amazes me how much comfort he’s able to offer me from such a small gesture.
“This is something new. None of us know if it’s going to work out, and while we’re still in the figuring things out stage, I want to limit any public affection. The press is all over you three, and I want to keep myself and Audrey out of the limelight for as long as possible, especially while this is still a casual thing. If things get more serious, we can revisit it and discuss safety precautions. I want her life to change as little as possible.” I hate the way my voice shakes, but at least it’s out there now.
Oliver’s eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean by limit and public?”
Alexei and Ian both give him a dirty look.
He laughs nervously. “I’m not trying to be an ass. I think that’s too vague. Personally, I think we need to know exactly what that boundary is. We’re in a club. There’s people around, but no one has a phone or a camera and there are no paparazzi. Does this count as public or not? What does limited mean in this context? Can we dance with you? How much is too much touching?”
“That’s a good point,” I acknowledge. “Since there’s no press, but there are people we don’t know, I guess it’d be semi-public so we would do what a normal group of friends would do here. We can dance like everyone else is dancing, you can throw an arm over my shoulder or lead me through the crowd by the hand, but any romantic affection would be a no-go.”
“So, like a PG rating,” Ian suggests.
“Exactly.”
“And when there’s press or the potential for press?” Alexei asks.
“Rated G platonic,” I answer.
“And in private?” Oliver raises his eyebrows suggestively.
I can’t help but smile. “You can go all the way up to an R rating unless Audrey’s there, of course.”
“I think we merit an NC-17, at least,” he teases.
I laugh, and the tense mood seems to have broken.
“I understand if that’s not something you're comfortable with but, if that’s the case, then I need to go home now. No hard feelings or resentment if that’s the case,” I say.
“Is that all?” Oliver smiles. “From the way you were leading up to it, I was thinking you were going to demand roses and imported chocolate every day.”
“If I’d have known that was an option, I definitely would have asked for that,” I tease. “Seriously, though, will that be a problem?”
“No way,” Oliver says.
Alexei and Ian’s nos follow immediately after his.
I beam. “Then, Gentlemen, I think we’re ready for a restart on this date.”
We make quick work of the fried pickles and nachos. Once the plates have been taken away and drinks have been refilled, the headliner DJ has stepped into the booth and started his set. The opener had gotten a fair share of people onto the dance floor, but the way this guy was mixing the sounds electrified the room. The crowd was whipped into a frenzy, and we couldn’t resist joining them for long.
Oliver insists on “taking me out for a spin” first as a reward for asking a good question. When Alexei protests, Oliver lightheartedly accuses him of hogging me. He scowls, but it’s more pout than power, so Oliver and I race into the writhing crowd on the dance floor.
He dances how he talks—a mix of playfulness and sincerity. We spin and bounce and flail around like teens at the prom. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much.
Before we dance a full three songs, Ian sweeps me away claiming that since he was the emotional spokesperson of the group, he should have gotten to dance with me first. Oliver protests, but Ian quickly bests Oliver with his own logic and we dance away.
Ian is more tuned into the music. He keeps perfect time to the beat, making me wonder if he played an instrument as a child. He has skill and passion and makes me feel like a princess at a ball.
We make it four songs before Alexei cuts in claiming that as captain of the Cold Hearts, he outranked Ian and was invoking his divine right as team leader. How he managed to do that with a straight face and an even tone will be one of the great mysteries of my life.
Alexei is Alexei no matter what he’s doing—skilled, methodical, and demanding. He holds me closer than the other two men, making it clear to everyone around us that I belong to him, but not once does he get close to crossing any of the boundaries I set.
He makes it a record six songs before Oliver cuts in insisting he’s dying of a broken heart.