Page 33 of Perfectly Complicated
And I’m definitely not in a place in my life to play around with a man who thinks commitment is a bad word.
“We should…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence. Because despite what I know, it still kills me to step away.
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “We should.”
But neither of us moves, like we know what we need to do, but don’t want this moment to end.
“Come on,” he says finally, taking my hand again. “Let’s get you back to solid ground.”
“The snow is getting worse by the minute.” We skate back toward the exit. “Do you want to leave?”
I look around at all the things we haven’t seen yet, all the reasons we could stay just a little longer. “Do you?”
“Not really,” he admits.
He didn’t want to come today. Now he doesn’t want to leave.
This should feel like a victory; instead, it feels like I’m standing at a crossroads.
I’m supposed to be teaching him to love Christmas. That’s the deal. It’s safe. But the way he’s looking at me right now? That’s not about Christmas at all.
I can play it safe, keep this about the pageant and protect my heart.
Or I can take the risk and let myself feel something for a man who could hurt me just like Nick did.
Either way, I’m scared of what I might lose.
TEN
Rourke
“This snow is magical,” Janie says while sipping her second drink, some type of holiday eggnog, as we stroll the vendor booths at the festival.
“It won’t be so magical driving home in my Porsche.” I glance toward the sky, where the flakes fall faster as we stand near an ornament booth. Most people seem thrilled with the freak snowstorm, stopping to take selfies and catch snowflakes on their tongues. But Janie’s boots aren’t exactly built for this weather and neither is my car.
She wanders over to an ornament, mesmerized by the small silver glass star, and studies it carefully while the intricate details catch the light.
“It’s beautiful,” she tells the man behind the booth, then looks at the price tag dangling from the top. Her smile falters before fading into a mask I recognize—someone who’s learned not to want things they can’t have.
“You do beautiful work,” she tells the man politely before turning to leave.
Something twists in my chest as I watch her walk away from something she clearly wanted.
“I need to find a hatfor Aria,” she says, moving toward the next booth. While she moves on, I slip back to the ornament vendor.
“I want that silver star,” I tell him, plucking it off the tree where Janie left it. I glance at the price tag again. It’s a lot, especially for a single mom on a teacher’s salary. But if I buy it for her, then problem solved.
He takes the ornament. “She’s lucky to have a special someone who pays attention.” He wraps the delicate glass star in tissue paper.
“Well, I’m not…” I pause.What exactly am I?We’re barely friends—more like rivals locked in some ridiculous Christmas bet where we’re trying to prove each other wrong, even if I am standing here buying her an expensive ornament.
Janie Bennett works her tail off taking care of everyone else, and just this once, someone should take care of her.
I hide the bag in my jacket pocket as she walks over, clutching her own package. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about this woman, it’s that she’s stubborn as a mule whenever I offer to help her. The timing has to be right to give her this ornament…and something tells me I need to wait.
“I bought something adorable for my daughter.” She holds up a matching Christmas bear hat-and-mitten set.
“What is it about dressing kids like little ferocious animals?” I say with a laugh.
