Page 29 of Perfectly Complicated
“Ice-skating.”
I turn to her. “Wait. What?”
“I want to choose something you don’t hate.” There’s no teasing in her expression now. Maybe she doesn’t despise me after all.
“You’re doing this…forme?” It doesn’t make sense after I behaved so childishly earlier.
She shrugs. “Maybe for once, I want to watch you do something you’re actually good at. Something you won’t complain about.”
“Careful, Little Miss Christmas,” I warn. “That almost sounds like you want me to have fun today.”
The smile that curves her lips is different this time. “That’s the whole point, Riley.”
NINE
Janie
As we head toward the ice rink, snow begins falling in fat, lazy circles that catch in Rourke’s dark hair and dust his shoulders like powdered sugar.
“Hold still.” I reach up without thinking.
The moment my fingers touch his hair, he freezes, like I hit the pause button. His eyes lock on mine, and my stomach does a somersault I definitely didnotauthorize.
“You know,” he says, “for every snowflake you brush away, seven more are going to land in its place.”
I blink, startled by how close we are. “I know,” I murmur, brushing a few more off his shoulder, because apparently my brain is no longer in charge of my limbs.
Even through his coat, I can feel the shape of him: solid, warm, alarmingly strong. The kind of man who could throw you over his shoulder and make it look effortless.
Not that I’m thinking about that.
Okay.Iamthinking about that.Briefly.
But what I should bethinking about is how I just volunteered to fall on my face in front of a man who already thinks I’m some overly cheerful Christmas fanatic.
If I don’t get through this skating thing without making himhave some fun, he’s going to have me in his hockey jersey by New Year’s.
He offers a crooked smile that shouldnotbe as charming as it is. “Sorry, I’m not used to this kind of attention. Give me a minute to figure out how to accept help gracefully.” He bites his lip playfully. “Fair warning, though—I’m terrible at it.”
“I’m an eternal optimist, remember?” I say. “Which means I’m probably the only person stubborn enough to keep trying.”
As we reach the skate rental, the snow is coming down at a steady clip, making this day even more romantic than it already is. Not that I’m thinking about romance. It’s just hard not to when couples are holding hands, lazily skating circles, like this is some sort of middle school winter dance.
“So when’s the last time you went ice-skating?” Rourke asks.
“Maybe…eight? Nine years old?”
His eyebrows fly up. “Twenty years ago?”
I give him a scathing look. “Thanks for your vote of confidence. And before you tell me it’s like riding a bike…”
“It’s not,” he says bluntly. “Absolutely nothing like riding a bike. Tomorrow you’re going to hurt like you got kicked by a reindeer.”
“Okay, I wasn’t expectingthatlevel of honesty.” I give him a look. “As long as you can keep me from falling.”
One eyebrow lifts skeptically. “You wantmyhelp?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I’m not so stubborn that I won’t accept a hand.”
