Page 100 of Perfectly Complicated
“Kissing is gross,” Preston adds.
Rourke smirks. “Trust me, you won’t hate kissing when you grow up.”
The boys start making gagging sounds while the girls erupt into giggles.
I give Rourke a look that saysnot helpful.
“He wanted to talk to me…alone,” I say, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for why we’re always together. “He had a question.”
“So many questions,” Rourke says witha smirk.
“But you weren’t even on stage,” Emmalynn says with a puzzled frown. “You were backstage where you thought no one could see.”
My whole face is on fire now. I know exactly what moment she’s talking about. Rourke pulled me behind a stage curtain to give me a quick kiss. I had no idea we had a bunch of little spies watching us.
“Um, well…” I stammer. “Mr. Rourke needslotsof help.”
I glance at Rourke, hoping for some backup, but he’s openly grinning. “I really do need a lot of help. And private lessons. Right, Ms. Bennett?”
This is it.This is how I lose my teaching license. Note to self: Never kiss anyone within a fifty-foot radius of children.Ever.
Emmalynn turns to Rourke, her face serious. “Mr. Rourke, do youloveMs. Bennett?”
“What do you think?” Rourke asks smoothly, dodging her question.
“My mommy says when grown-ups love each other, they get all smiley and weird,” Jack answers.
“Are we acting weird?” Rourke asks, clearly enjoying this interrogation.
“Yes,” Preston says flatly. “You laugh at everything she says, even when it’s not funny.”
“And Ms. Bennett keeps fixing her hair when you’re around,” Lily adds.
Do I?
“And you brought her flowers yesterday,” Preston notes.
“They were poinsettias for the set,” I protest.
“Not those flowers.” Preston motions toward the stage flowers. “The red roses he tried to hide from us.”
This conversation is spiraling completely out of control, but I can’t deny that part of me is loving the way Rourke is staring at me—grinning like he’s only too happy to get caught making heart eyes at me.
“Mr. Rourke, I have a question,” Lily says, stepping forward.
“Lily—” I start, but she’s on a roll now.
“Do you want to marry her and have lots of babies with her?” It’s the kind of honesty only a six-year-old can get away with.
Rourke’s mouth quirks. “Someday I would definitely like to have lots of babies with Ms. Bennett.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head as I glare at Rourke now. “Okay, okay,” I nervously laugh, holding up my hands in a plea to surrender. “Can we please focus on the pageant? We have less than a week before the performance.”
“But, Ms. Bennett—” Lily starts.
“No more questions,” I say firmly, giving Rourke one last look to remind him to behave. “Now, carolers, take your places.”
I point to the large pergola in the center of the stage, decorated for Christmas. As the kids move into place, Lily points up at the top of the pergola.
