The Ice Conjuror

Chapter Six

Eva

The pillowcase carried his scent. It was a heady blend of vanilla fabric softener, a subtle note of lavender, and just a hint of musk. Inhaling deeply, I felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through me. It was like he was here with me, tangled up in these sheets.

I couldn't sleep a wink.

My mind was consumed with thoughts of him, of the mess he got himself tangled up in, unwittingly, If he were to find out about the company I worked for, or worse if they were to find out about him.

A part of me wanted to run and hide, he and his friends seemed like such nice people, and I wanted to run away and protect them. They didn't deserve to be tangled up in Keepers' mess. And another part of me feared the worse, maybe it was already too late.

A lump formed in my throat as I swallow. My stomach knotted into a bundle of nerves.

Eventually, exhaustion caught up to me, and I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

As I opened my eyes, a gentle hum of a coffee machine filled my ears, and the intoxicating aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickled my nose.

As I surveyed my surroundings, yesterday's memories rushed back to me like a flood. Just as the soft whirring of the coffee machine came to an end, Ivan emerged from the kitchen holding a steaming cup of coffee and a flaky croissant. He wore dark gray sweatpants, a fitted black t-shirt, and a pair of cozy white socks. His brown hair was tousled, and a hint of stubble shadowed his chiseled jawline.

Being here felt like slipping into a warm bath after a long, exhausting day. The comfort of his apartment cocooned me like a protective shield, and the outside world seemed like a distant memory. The ticking clock on his wall was the only indication that time was still moving forward.

"Good morning, Eva," he greeted me with a smile as he placed the mug and croissant on the coffee table. His emerald-green eyes twinkled mischievously as he spoke. "I hope you enjoy my coffee. Being a journalist, I have plenty of experience brewing the perfect cup," he teased, his eyes still locked on mine.

"You're a journalist?" I asked.

He nodded slowly. "I work for Polaris City Independent."

My heart skipped a beat. "You're not going to expose me, are you?" I asked, forcing a laugh even though I felt a wave of nervousness wash over me.

He held my gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "No, Eva," he said softly. "I'm not going to write about this."

Relief flooded through me, and I couldn't help but smile back. His warmth was contagious.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Err, eleven-thirty," Ivan answered, glancing at his smartphone.

I gasped and leaped to my feet, frantically gathering my clothes. "I'm late for work," I said, feeling a sense of panic.

"It's Saturday," Ivan stated, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"I work on Saturdays," I explained, rushing to the bathroom to change back into last night's clothes.

I grabbed my phone from my jeans. My heart dropped when I saw two missed calls: one from James, and the other from Mallory. I swallowed hard, my fingers started trembling. James had always been persistent, but why would Mal be calling me?

My mind raced with worst-case scenarios, and I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that crept up my spine.

What could she possibly want?