Leah snorted and rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Yeah, I’m sure you did. Fucked the boss, probably. I had the training. From my brother, the cop. I was perfect for that fucking job.” She never had believed that Micah had earned it solely on knowing how to defend herself. If that was the case, anyone who knew self-defense techniques could teach a course.
Leah was painfully aware that they had an audience; that people were watching and whispering about them. Did she care? On a small scale, she did. This was certainly showing her immaturity. On a larger scale, she could’ve cared less.
When the other woman started getting into the right rhythm with her feet, Leah’s comments stopped for the moment. It was impressive, much as she wouldn’t admit it, that Micah could stay on her feet on the ice, even while drunk. Realizing this only served to make Leah more annoyed, though.
Her eyes widened in surprise when Micah crashed into her. A jolt of panic went through her as she scrambled to regain her balance. Feet scrambled for purchase on the ice, arms tangled. She let out her breath in a huff as soon as the initial fear subsided. She wasn’t going to fall. Nope.
But then that relief turned to something else when the humility of the scene transferred to her. Those were Micah’s lips. Touching hers.
There was a split second of ’what the fuck is happening?’ before Leah’s eyebrows arched. Driven by instinct alone, Leah’s lips responded to the contact…
For about five seconds before realization hit. Leah shoved Micah back, her hand going to her mouth. “What the fuck, Costanzo?! Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Micah knew damn well that Leah was involved with someone. This had to be some sort of ploy. Some game the drunk woman was playing.