روايات وقصص ضمن Ice Names

“To eat ice cream with her?” I sighed, trying to push him back, but his frame was solid, unyielding. “I think you’re forgetting something, Liam. You don’t own me. We don’t have anything—not friendship, not respect, nothing. It’s high time you stopped acting like this.” He scoffed, but then his eyes dropped to my lips, where Blake’s ex had split the skin. His expression shifted. He stepped closer, face inches from mine. My heart jammed like a drum in my chest. The world narrowed to the heat radiating from his body, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with lingering frustration. He leaned in slowly, deliberately. I didn’t pull away. I should have. But I didn’t.

Isabella slapped a hand to her mouth when we had a scuffle as clear as day from where Eric was hiding. She had been right after all. Interesting. “Well, I guess we will have to go on our own, Mr Cross. I will have you know that my favorite ice cream flavor is Vanilla so I will…” Before she could even finish her statement, Eric climbed out from his hiding place. “Me too. I love Vanilla… please take me with you.” “Eric” Isabella turned to him, total shock in her eyes. “I did not see you there.” She was a very convincing actress.

There was only one word for him, heavenly. "Good morning president Cooper," he said in his seductive British accent and kissed the top of her hand. "My name is Nickolas Michelson." "You're welcome Mr Michelson please take a sit. How can I help you sir?" Miranda asked. " Thank you and please just call me Nick the formalities make me feel unwelcome. And am actually here to help us both, I want to invest in your company president." He said .

“I heard the Jonas hockey team is sharing ice with you guys now. Their rink’s under maintenance, right? That must be throwing off everyone’s rhythm.” Elias nodded, sliding onto one of the barstools at the island. He accepted the plate Dave passed him, the food looking as perfectly plated as always. “Yeah. They’re loud, aggressive, and apparently one of them has a personal vendetta against figure skaters breathing the same air. Called me princess, made fun of my birthmark, threw around every tired slur in the book. It was… whatever. Elara shut it down before it turned into an actual fight.”

“Tell Dad, if he comes home that I am out in the pubs and tell him to not bother, I might hang with the pups tonight.” Ice Somber, is nineteen years old and devilishly handsome. He is an eye candy for his age, with dark hair and eyes that was as blue as the Caspian sea. However, he is a pain in the a** for his father. Standing five foot and eight inches, Ice is one of the local stars in the country. Not because he belonged to a very prominent family or a strong pack. He was a star in his own right. He races cars and dates celebrities and models as often as he changes his clothes and to top that off, he looks really good, rugged and smoldering hot. Suffice to say, he was ladies’ man and he wa

Before the date of the pack visit, Ice has returned. He could already tell something happened between them. It’s just a hint of awkwardness but he managed to pick it up just fine. He knew the two of them well enough to distinguish their odd behavior. Ice has no wolf, therefore no mate. He never joined these pack visits, but he reminded Clyde again. He hasn’t asked yet what happened while he was gone, so what he said was pretty much a general warning for his brother; he reminded him not to overdo anything.

I sighed and just walked to the canteen. ICE'S POV: While sleeping I felt a presence looking at me. Even though I want to ignore those stares, I can’t. I frowned as I feel like I know who it is. At first, I was still in a daze as I raised my face but then I completely woke up when I saw the guy named Iciest in front of me smiling like a fool. I was stunned at first but a few seconds later, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing here?" I asked lazily. I looked around the classroom and saw no trace of those four annoying creatures. I furrowed my eyebrows, where are they? They just leave me here alone with this guy? Unbelievable!

She says dismissively. I couldn’t help but feel giddy. Ice cream has a way of making everything feel better. I made a beeline to the stall we had passed by earlier, the one pressing their own waffle cones on hot irons. Their ice creams are proudly displayed behind the glass. Silky and glossy with vibrant colors. Milky white vanilla, pale green pistachio, blush pink rose water, deep purple blackberry, and a rich chocolate ice cream all lined up in a neat row behind the glass.