Page 96 of Perfectly Complicated
“No, you won’t,” he says over his shoulder. “I won’t let that happen.”
I scoff lightly. “You won’t even be able to see me.”
“Bennett, you’d be surprised what I can do in the dark.” Hisvoice is low and teasing, and I can hear the smirk without seeing it.
He pats a bench for me to sit. “You know the drill.”
Then he kneels in front of me. His hands slip to my calf and catch my foot like he did at the Christmas festival. And he does the same thing with the same care to the same effect.
I don’t stifle the grin pulling at my mouth. “I’m sure I could tie my own skates this time.”
“I know you could, but watching you struggle when I can take care of you? Not happening.”
He finishes tying my skates before pulling me to my feet.
“Rourke, are you sure about this?”
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Angel, do you trust me?”
“Of course I do but…” Before I can finish, I’m swept off my feet as Rourke picks me up, steps onto the rink, and skates over to center ice where they drop the puck.
“Wait, you’re carrying me?” I ask. “I thought this was a private lesson.”
“You’ve got the private part right,” he says with a wink. “It’s been torture waiting all night to show you this.” Then he sets me down, his hands staying firmly planted on my waist to make sure I don’t fall. “Do you think you can stay here for a minute without falling?”
“Wow, your confidence in me is overwhelming.”
“Just taking care of you,” he says with a grin, skating backwards like it’s nothing. “I’ve been planning this for a long time.”
With that, he turns and disappears off the ice. A few beats later, his voice echoes from somewhere across the arena. “Janie Bennett, are you ready?”
“I’m ready to not be standing here in the dark,” I reply to the enormous arena.
And then, like magic, the rink bursts to life. Strings of holiday lights flicker on around me, and I turn in a slow circle, taking it all in. The entire rink is lined with glowing Christmastrees, their lights reflecting off the ice in a kaleidoscope of colors. Even with his teammates’ help, it must have taken him hours to set this up.
And then, the music starts—and it sounds suspiciously like my infamous Christmas playlist, the one I made him suffer through on the way to Santaville. Mariah Carey croons through the speakers like this is a holiday movie, right before I spot Rourke skating toward me.
He’s swapped his jacket for a Crushers sweatshirt and—I can’t believe it—is that a Santa hat? Despite his issues with the man in the red suit, he somehow makes the hat look adorable.
“Rourke,” I gasp. “You did this…for me?”
He slows beside me. “You’ve been trying to get me to like Christmas by showing me the best parts.” He rubs his neck, looking away. “I figured I should do the same. This is me, trying to make hockey feel a little more like home for you.”
Something blooms in my chest. He decorated an entire hockey rink in lights so I would feel more comfortable here.
I reach up and straighten his hat. “I never thought I’d see you in a Santa hat…by choice.”
“Trust me, this is a deeply humbling chapter of my life.” Then his smile turns soft. “To quote a famous movie…I’m just a boy. Standing in front of a girl. Asking her to love hockey.”
I press my lips together, trying to stop from laughing, even though I could kiss him right now. “So what does this private lesson involve?”
“Well,” he says, skating a lazy circle around me, “we’ll see if you’ve improved at all since your last lesson.”
Under the Christmas lights, he looks completely in his element. Confident, graceful, and breathtaking.
“You saw me last time. I couldn’t even let go of the wall.”
“But this is lesson two, and you should be better.” He stops only inches away from me now.
