Todos los capítulos de Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival: Capítulo 111 - Capítulo 120

Dean brought up the blog post while I was doing my makeup. He stood behind me with his phone in hand, watching my reflection in the mirror.“You saw it?”“I did, and I couldn’t care less.” I finished my eyeliner before turning to face him. “I have a car I love, my capstone is almost finished, and my advisor thinks it’s some of the best work she’s seen in years. My internship is going well enough that they’ve already hinted at offering me a full-time position after graduation. I’m graduating on time, with honors, and I paid for my education myself. I’m also in love with you. A few strangers writing nonsense online aren’t going to ruin my day.”His expression softened, pride warming his face. “I love you. You’re incredible.”“I know.” I reached for one of my earrings and smiled at him through the mirror. “Now tell me if this dress is too much for dinner with your family.”“It’s perfect.”“You said that about the last three.”“They were also perfect. I’m beginning to see why you hate mak

By the time I reached Ava’s dorm, she had three gift ideas open on her laptop, each one crossed out so aggressively that I was surprised the screen had survived.“Nothing feels right,” she said, closing a tab for a watch she had apparently been considering since the invention of time. “Ryan says he doesn’t want anything, which obviously means he wants something. He just refuses to tell me what.”“Classic Ryan.”“I want it to mean something. It’s the first birthday I’m spending with him, and I don’t want it to turn into another group event where he spends the whole day entertaining everyone while I get ten minutes of the real him.” She dropped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. “He’s always surrounded by people. His team, his friends, you, Dean. I want one day that’s just us.”“A day together might be better than anything you could wrap.”She considered that, then reached for her laptop again. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m overthinking it.”“You usually do that for people you love.”H

The restaurant Dean had booked for Ryan’s birthday occupied a quiet corner of downtown, the kind of place with low lighting, a private dining room, and prices nobody mentioned out loud. Two long tables had been pushed together for the team and their partners, and by the time we arrived, the room was already alive with conversation, clinking glasses, and Ryan pretending he was uncomfortable with all the attention. “I still can’t believe you did this,” he said, looking around as though the manager might appear at any moment to announce that we had the wrong room. “This is genuinely too nice for me.” “Nothing is too nice for you,” Dean said, patting him on the shoulder. “Except that shirt you wore earlier.” “I burned that shirt.” “Good instinct.” I laughed as I settled into my seat beside Dean. I had spent the afternoon at the salon, finally committing to the copper color I had been circling for weeks. It was warmer than the blonde, less polished, and somehow more like me. Dean had

The drive to Dean’s apartment was quiet enough for me to hear the turn signal clicking between us. I kept my face turned toward the window, watching the city smear into streaks of light, and tried to convince myself I was fine. It was a useless effort. At the next red light, Dean reached across the console and brushed his thumb beneath my eye. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.” That was all it took. I pressed my forehead to the glass and stopped pretending the tears were something I could control. When we reached his apartment, he guided me to the couch, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with a mug of hot chocolate. He placed it in my hands as if warmth could solve the problem, then settled beside me. “Talk to me.” I stared at the marshmallows floating on the surface. “I can’t believe she used Mason against me.” Dean waited, giving me the silence I needed. “She was there when I ran into him at brunch,” I continued. “She acted like she had no idea who he was. She stood

I was halfway through taking notes in my afternoon seminar when my phone buzzed. The number wasn’t saved, and I nearly ignored it, but an uneasy instinct told me I shouldn’t. I slipped out into the hallway and answered.“Miss Bennett, this is Arthur Mercer’s office. He’d like you to come in for a meeting immediately, if you’re available.”“Immediately? Today?”“If possible, yes.”I shoved my notebook into my bag and left before the professor had finished making his point. By the time I reached the office, I had managed to worry myself into expecting almost anything. I still wasn’t prepared for the conference room.Arthur sat at the head of the table with Harold Whitfield beside him. Sophie was seated across from an empty chair, which was obviously meant for me. Arthur gestured toward it. “Iris. Thank you for coming so quickly. Please, sit.”I took the chair, keeping my bag in my lap. “What’s this about?”Harold answered before Arthur could. His voice had the clipped, formal quality of