Page 59 of Perfectly Complicated
SEVENTEEN
Janie
I’m standing in front of my bedroom mirror, applying lipstick for a date I don’t even want to go on, while the man who torments me with irrational feelings is downstairs brooding like a storm cloud.
Apparently, this is my life now.
I take one final look in the mirror before snapping the lid on my lipstick. I’m wearing my green sweater and black jeans—like someone who goes out with stable men and has mind-numbing conversations about math lesson plans and parent-teacher conferences.
I’m definitely not the kind of woman fantasizing about broody hockey players who promise to ruin every other date for me.
Except that’s all I’m thinking about these days.
From downstairs, Aria babbles happily while Rourke talks to her in a low, sweet voice that stirs up troubling feelings in my heart. I finally agreed to let him babysit after he gave me the world’s longest silent treatment—two whole days of grumpy hockey-player silence. It was the peace offering I needed to ease the tension between us.
Now, hearing the two of them together sets off a soft ache in my chest.
I should be excited about my evening with David. He’s everything that makes sense—nice and dependable, the kind of man who would never cause a ripple in my placid life. He’d never make me question my life choices or keep me awake at night wondering what his hands would feel like on my skin.
So why does it feel like I’m putting on a mask for a play I don’t want to be in?
The doorbell rings at exactly six thirty—because David is as reliable as a metronome.
I call out, “I’ve got it!” before rushing downstairs, but I’m too late.
Rourke has already opened the door and is standing there, arms crossed, looking as friendly as a bouncer at an exclusive club. Aria plays contentedly on the floor behind him, completely oblivious to the testosterone-fueled standoff happening in the entryway. David, to his credit, keeps his pleasant smile in place despite Rourke’s obvious intimidation tactics.
“David, hello.” I try to squeeze past Rourke’s immovable body. My shoulder brushes against Rourke’s arm and the contact sends electricity through me. I ignore the part of me that still craves his touch.
I motion toward Rourke. “Sorry, have you met my…roommate?” The word feels wrong on my tongue. Just like this whole scenario does.
David’s gaze travels up Rourke’s imposing six-four frame, his broad shoulders, the sharp jaw, the way he fills the entrance. “Uh, no. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”
“Rourke.” His voice is flat, almost territorial. “I live here.”
“Temporarily,” I add quickly, shooting him a look. “Until his apartment gets fixed.” I nudge Rourke’s rock-solid arm in what I hope seems playful rather than desperate. “Isn’t that right,roomie?”
His gaze drags down myoutfit, and there’s something dark and possessive in his eyes that makes my pulse stutter, something that says he doesn’t like sharing me with David Peterson, not even conversationally.
“Yeah,” he growls, then shifts his full attention to David with a glare that is definitely not welcoming.
“So, Farkle night, huh?” The way he says it makes the innocent dice game sound somewhat obscene.
“It’s actually quite fun,” David explains. “It’s a dice game based on risk assessment…”
“Fascinating.” Rourke’s tone suggests it’s anythingbut. “Anyway, just so you know, Aria’s bedtime is eight thirty sharp. Janie never misses it. If you want to stay on her good side, have her back by then.”
David checks his watch, then looks up in distress. “But that’s only two hours.”
“I know.” His mouth curls into a slow grin—like he’s already plotting how to ruin my night. “And time flies when you’re playing Farkle.”
“Rourke,” I hiss, heat flooding my cheeks. “It’s fine if I miss her bedtime occasionally.”
His eyes lock on mine, and there’s a challenge in them. “Is it, Bennett?”
He knows I’ve only missed Aria’s bedtime once—the night we were stranded in Santaville, when I woke up in his arms, shaken by a nightmare, and he made me feel safer than I had in months.
But right now, I can’t win this staring contest or let him see how much that night meant to me.
