Page 21 of Fate on the Ice

“There are some things I should tell you,” she says. “But I wanted this to be a one-time date. That’s what I told myself it would be.”

“Grace,” I warn.

I don’t want this to be a one-time thing, not at fucking all. What I want it to be is an everyday thing. An all-night, every-night thing. Every single fucking night.

She stops in her tracks and turns to face me. Tipping my chin down, I look into her eyes. Lifting my hand, I gently pinch her chin then tilt her head back. I look into her eyes and take her in, all of her.

She’s absolutely beautiful, far too much so to be standing here in front of me. She doesn’t have her life figured out yet, and I know exactly what I want and the way I want it… except for the love part. I have no clue about that.

“I have to tell you,” I say, “before you give me whatever it is you’re about to hit me with. You think I have everything figured out, but I don’t.”

“No?” Grace asks.

Her lips twitch into a smile, and fuck me, I want to kiss her right now. But I don’t. Instead, I finish my words.

“No, Grace. I may know what I want professionally, but I have no fucking clue about this stuff.”

“This stuff?” Her breath hitches with the two words.

“Relationships. I’ve never really done it. Never had the time. So, I don’t have everything figured out, honey.”

Sliding my hand from her chin, I glide my fingers along her jaw and gently guide them around the back of her neck. Then I lower my head and touch my lips to hers. Bringing her closer to me, I wish I could lay her down right here on the sidewalk.

I nibble on her bottom lip before I break the kiss, then lift my head slightly, but I don’t move away from her. I keep her close, right where I want her—pressed against me. I can smell her, feel her, sense her.

Chapter

Ten

GRACE

Lying in bed, I stare at the ceiling and go over every single detail of my date. It was perfect, and much to my chagrin, it is not the one and only date we’ll have. I don’t know why I thought I could just be one and done with him. I should have known the second his lips touched mine that I was done for.

Because I am.

Rolling onto my side, I stare at the closed window, knowing that it faces him—Otto. I don’t know what it is about him. I feel like a giddy preteen and a nervous one at that. The way his hand felt, touching me.

The way his lips felt against my skin. I thought I was going to pass out at any given moment. But I’m keeping something huge from him. I almost told him tonight, confessed who my father is.

I also almost told him about Hayze—about what happened to me, about what I allowed to happen. I hate myself for it, and I probably always will. I can’t see myself ever forgiving, let alone forgetting, what I allowed to happen.

It’s too much drama, though. I am too much drama. I should ignore any more advances. I should tell him that I don’t want to date anyone at all.

That I need to focus on myself.

That I need to heal. I need to lie.

Because there is no way I can let this go on. I’ll have to tell him the truth. He’s going to find out sooner or later.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I frown, rolling to the other side to reach for the device. Smiling at the sight of the name on the screen, along with the face, I let out a sigh before I slide my thumb across and hold it to my ear.

“Hello,” I whisper.

I don’t know why I’m whispering. I can’t hear anything from any of my roommates. I don’t know how this house is insulated, but they must have paid extra for it because I can’t hear anything, ever.

“I didn’t wake you?” he asks.

“No. I can’t sleep,” I confess.

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