Page 125 of Perfectly Complicated
Six months ago, that kind of public display would’ve scared me to death, but now it feels natural, like I’m ready to tell the world what I already know—I love this man.
When the puck drops, I quickly realize the games I’ve watched on TV are light years away from the real liveexperience of being part of the crowd’s energy. The sport is frantically paced and slightly terrifying, with pucks and bodies flying across the ice, but it’sneverboring. Which is funny, considering I once called it that. Turns out, I was watching the wrong guy.
My stomach clenches every time Rourke gets hit, and on more than one occasion, I gasp when he’s checked into the boards. But from the first face-off, I’m completely invested.
“He’s really good at this,” I say under my breath and Jaz laughs.
“Honey, he’s one of the best defensemen in the league.”
And now I understand why. Fifteen minutes into the first period, he grabs a loose puck, glides down the ice, and sinks it into the net—his first goal of the game. It happens so fast, I have to watch the replay on the big screen to catch the puck flyingbetween the goalie’s legs. The red light flashes and the horn blares, sending the entire arena to their feet.
And I’m right there with them, screaming louder than anyone. On the ice, Rourke’s teammates mob him, but even in the crush of bodies, his eyes find mine. He points up at us again, and I blow him a kiss this time, then form my fingers into the shape of a heart.
“Now, that,” Jaz shouts over the noise, “is how you fall in love with hockey!”
Sometime between the opening face-off and this moment, something has changed inside me. It’s not just that I’m watching Rourke play—it’s seeing why he loves this, why it’s such a huge part of who he is.
And the fact that I can be part of it, supporting him, leaves me humbled and grateful.
When the final buzzer sounds announcing another Crushers’ win, I’m emotionally exhausted and completely exhilarated. The crowd is on their feet, but down on the ice, Rourke doesn’t greet his teammates first. Instead, he skates directly to our section, his helmet off, his hair damp with sweat, his face flushed with joy as he motions for me.
Lauren takes Aria so I can run down the stairs, but as soon as I get to the rink level, I’m pushing against a tide of people going the opposite direction. At one point, it feels impossible that I will ever reach him, and then someone calls out, “Let the lady through!” and the sea of people parts, creating a path straight to him.
I rush toward him, unable to hide the way I’m nearly glowing with joy as he meets me at the entrance to the ice.
“Did you see—” he starts to say, but I cut him off.
“I saw everything,” I say. “You were incredible out there.”
And then he’s kissing me in front of everyone—teammates, fans, cameras. It’s not a brief peck on the lips either. This is anI-claim-you-in-front-of-the-worldkiss. And I kiss him back, throwing my arms around his neck and squealing with delight.
Camera flashes pop, and the Jumbotron shows our mini make-out session, broadcasting it to the remaining crowd, who absolutely eats it up, cheering even louder.
“I love you,” I say against his lips, tangling my fingers in his hair. “Even more than Christmas.”
“Really?” he says, pulling back to look at me. “Now, that’s saying something, considering you probably have Christmas music playing in July.”
“I know, and I mean it too,” I reply, my hands tugging his jersey toward me one last time. “Now, get back to your teammates before they start heckling you for too much PDA.”
“Oh, that’s already happening.” He lets out a full-body laugh and steals one more quick kiss before heading back to celebrate with his team.
As I watch him leave, Jaz comes up next to me, nudging me with her elbow.
“So,” she says with a grin, “still think love is complicated?”
“No,” I say, and I mean it completely. “Not when it’s with the right person.”
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Perfectly Pretend
with Brendan and Scarlett!
She should’ve known better than to agree to fake date her brother’s best friend.
Especially when he’s a hockey coach— grumpy, gorgeous, and completely allergic to feelings.
But the hardest part of all?Pretending it isn’t real.
