Page 47 of Perfectly Complicated
Why did I choose two truths and a lie to dump all my relationship baggage on him? Men like him don’t find that attractive. Anything we felt was because we were trapped together, not because either of us thinks this couldactuallywork.
A single mother dating a hockey player?Yeah,no.Nobody thinks that’s a good idea.
But then I look over and catch him grinning as “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” comes on. This was the song playing at the coffee shop when we were under the mistletoe, and now it will forever be branded into my mind asthe kissing song.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” The smirk doesn’t fade. “Just…this song reminds me of something.”
Of course he’s thinking about it too.
“You know,” he muses. “This song isn’t as terrible as I remembered.”
I want to read into that and believe that maybe the kiss meantsomething. Or the way he held me last night wasn’t just him being a decent human being. But I know better. One song he tolerates doesn’t mean he’s suddenly embraced Christmas. It just means he has good memories attached to it now.
“It’s still a Christmas song,” I point out.
“Oh, trust me, Iknow.” His grin widens. “But certainassociationsmake it more tolerable.”
I glance away, my cheeks turning pink. He’s still the grinch. Just a grinch who happens to kiss really, really well.
We make it halfway through the playlist when his phone rings. Instead of letting me hear the conversation through the car speakers, he picks up his phone to answer.
“Hello?” He pauses. “Yeah, I live at The Foundry, why?” There’s a stretch of silence. “Are you serious? At least four to six weeks now?”
I give him a sideways glance as his jaw clenches. “No, I get it.” His tone turns hollow. “Thanks for letting me know.”
He pulls over at a gas station to fill up and makes another call. “Do you have any rooms available tonight?” He sighs. “What about later this week?”
I should just ignore him. Mind my own business and let him figure out his own housing situation.He’s not my problem.
“Nothing for the next two weeks?” He exhales. “I understand. Holiday season, I know. Thanks anyway.”
He makes another call while waiting on the gas pump. “Hey, Jaxon. I’m on my way back now. Do you have room for me to stay over this week?” He pauses. “Dude, I know your apartment’s a studio, but they said it’s going to be another month before I can move back into my condo. Jaz and Brax have enough on their plates.” Another pause. “No, no, it’s okay. I didn’t realize your brother was coming to visit.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”
When he hangs up, he just stands there for a moment, staring at his phone like he wants to chuck it across theparking lot.
I knock on the car window to get his attention. He looks over, blinking as if he forgot I was still there, then opens the door.
“Do you need a place to stay?” I ask.
“Well, I told Jaz and Brax I’d be back in my condo after the festival. They don’t need me crashing on their couch another night. Apparently I missed my shot at getting a hotel room again.”
“If you don’t have any other options, I have a guest room,” I blurt out, even though this feels like I’m overstepping the boundaries of our working relationship. “It’s where my parents stay when they visit. Just if you need somewhere to stay until you find something.”
He stares at me for a moment, puzzled by my offer. Does he think I’m expecting something after last night? Because I’m not. I’m just trying to return the favor.
“If I stay,” he says slowly. “I need to pay you something. What’s reasonable?”
“You don’t have to pay me anything.”
“Janie, I’m not staying in your house for free. That’s non-negotiable.” His tone is firm. “What’s your mortgage payment?”
I frown. “You’re not paying my mortgage.”
“How much?”
“Rourke, it’s not your responsibility.”
