Ch. Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 69 Mr.chatterbox for her, Mr.Icebox for me? Ice melts and so did my love. 69

Chapter 1 

Day before my period, I saw this in my fiance’s phone: 

“Her cycle hits tomorrow. Tampons painkillers.” 

My heart melted. He’s PERFECT. 

Next morning? Cramps hit like a truck. I’m sweating, digging through my bag-nothing. 

Then the wetness hit. Blood spreading across my pants. 

Students started pointing, giggling. 

Then I saw the intern’s post: 

“OMG my mentor is literally psychic! Had tampons AND Advil ready before I even knew I needed them! Best day ever! 

The pic? My prescription-strength Advil. My one-brand-only tampons. 

I twisted the ring off my finger. Walked straight to the principal. 

That spot in France? Mine.” 

I submitted the application right as the bell rang. 

Principal Davis kept shooting me looks. Finally, she caved. 

“Claire, you were literally picking out wedding fonts two days ago. You and Evan are tying the knot next month. What’s going on?” 

I knew what she was really asking. 

Exchange programs? Three-year minimum. That kind of distance kills marriages before they even start. Everyone here watched me moon over Evan Anderson for four solid years, date him for three more, just to finally snag that ring. 

Why blow it all up now? 

Because distance only works when you’re both actually in it. 

And I just realized-he checked out a long time ago. 

15-58 

Mr. Chatterbox for Her Mr Icebere for Me? Ice Melts, and So Did My Lovel 

56.8% 

Chapter 1 

I scratched at the dried blood under my nails, remnants of my pathetic tissue patch job. 

“Guess it wasn’t meant to be after all.” 

“Do me a favor? Keep this between us.” 

Pity flickered across her face. 

“You got it. No one hears it from me.” 

“First group flies out tomorrow. Say the word and you’re on it.” 

I nodded, mumbled thanks, and bolted. 

My phone lit up. Evan again. 

“Seriously? I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes.” 

Ever since we shacked up, I had to leave with him. Every. Single. Night. 

“Can’t have my girl walking to the car alone,” I used to gush. 

Back when he taught seniors and I had freshmen, he’d clock out two hours after me. I’d park myself in my classroom. killing time on Instagram, acting like waiting was no biggie. 

Never once bitched about it. 

Now ten minutes was too much to ask. 

I stared at my screen, bracing for the wave of heartbreak. 

Nothing came. 

I typed: “Tied up. Just head out.” 

Powered off my phone. 

An hour later, I’d boxed up all the handoff crap for whatever poor soul got stuck with my classes. My shoulders were screaming by the time I made it to the parking lot. 

Pulled out my phone for an Uber. 

HONNNK. 

I practically hit the ceiling. 

Chapter 1 

Evan’s car. Idling right behind me. 

I just stood there like an idiot until he laid on the horn again and stuck his head out. 

You planning to stand there all night or what?” 

I glanced down at the disaster zone that used to be my jeans. That massive bloodstain. His baby-soft leather seats. 

Opened the door anyway. 

He looked me up and down and thrust a black grocery bag at me. 

“Hang on.” 

I grabbed it, totally lost. 

“You KNOW it’s coming and you can’t even remember to pack tampons? Claire, come on. You’re not a teenager. Can you maybe handle basic hygiene like a grown-up?” 

“You’ve been walking around like a crime scene all day. Half my kids asked if you were dying. Do you have any idea 

how that looks?” 

How it looks. 

The blood smell hit me all over again. 

I DID pack tampons this morning. 

But then I saw his cute little reminder and actually believed he gave a damn about me. 

Turns out he does give a damn. 

Just not about me. 

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