Page 109 of My Last Dance

“Okay, but that song’s just really…really romantic.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Is that a problem?”

I gulped. “No, I think we’re good actors.”

He nodded, like he was going to go along with my words, but then he paused. “You know what I think?” He licked his lips and leveled me with a stare over the flickering candle. The whole world seemed to stop spinning as I waited for his words. “I think we’re both shit actors, Piper.”

My heart thudded so loudly that I bet he could hear it. It felt like he just threw down a challenge, and now he was waiting on me to take it. “I think you’re right,” I whispered.

“Thank God.” He leaned closer and his rough hand slid to the base of my head and his lips crushed down against mine, kissing me, making pure ecstasy flutter through my stomach.

My hand went to his cheek, into his hair, as I deepened the kiss. He groaned in pleasure and looped his hands under my thighs, roughly depositing me on his lap so that we were chest-to-chest.

Pleasure rocked through me, my body screamingfinally, my soul chanting,You, I’ve only ever wanted you.

His mouth moved to my neck, making me gasp, making me wantmore. It was the perfect push and pull that shoved all reason right out of my head. I suddenly wanted closer, wanted more of his skin on mine.

Butno.

Ineededreason.

I pulled back, and his hands froze around my ribs. “This won’t change anything on the ice, right?” I asked breathlessly.

“No, baby,” he vowed, his hand tracing my hair line, his dazed eyes darting over my face, like he was trying to memorize the moment.

I nodded furiously as his rough hand wandered up my shirt. “Promise?” His fingers twisted, making me cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“I promise,” he rasped while laying me down. He eased back only to pull off his shirt, flexing his arm and shoulders. “It’s our time, baby,” he said against my lips.

“Finally,” I murmured.

“Finally, baby,” he echoed.

_________

The next morning, Patrick’s eyes bounced from our faces to our joined hands as we walked into the rink lobby.

“No,” he deadpanned, eyeing Kappy with suspicion. “Tell me you didn’t.”

I tried to pull my hand away, but Kappy tightened his grip. “Sorry, Patty Boy,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.

“How could you?” Patrick blanched. “I gave you three rules! Onlythree!And the first one wasn’t even for you!”

“I’m really sorry. I am,” he said, laughing.

Patrick’s eyebrows slammed down. “No, you’re really not! I can tell!” He looked at our hands again and shook his head. “I’m disgusted.”

Hans stopped pushing his mop to watch our interaction, a little smile dancing on his face.

“At least we’re really…gelling?” Kappy tried.

Patrick fake gagged. “Don’t tell me that.” He shook a finger at us. “Donottell me that.”

But practice that day reminded me that the world is always balancing itself. After the high from last night, my stomach dropped when a familiar pain started shocking up my right leg.

I did my best to push through it, but after completing our combination spin, which put consistent weight on my right calf, I couldn’t hide my grimace.

“It’s hurting, isn’t it,” Kappy asked, watching me closely.

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