Page 31 of Ice Dance Hockey

“Deal,” he says with that handsome smile of his. It’s not fair for him to look so good with the ghost of his kiss still haunting my lips.

I need to get the hell away from him. “Very well. Goodnight.”

“Whoa. Hold up there. I’m walking you to the door like a proper gentleman.”

“You’re really starting to annoy me.” But I don’t stop him from following me. If he comes up to the house, he’ll get the grilling he should have gotten earlier from Merc, and I’ll have fun watching that.

He’s not deterred. He follows me right up the porch steps and I unlock the door with my key, only to have it swing open on its own. No, not on its own. Mercy’s standing there, shirtless, with the look of a well-satisfied man on his face. At least they were doing it while I was gone. Doesn’t mean they won’t do it again five seconds from now, but that means they’ll both pass out dead sooner.

“What the hell?” I say.

“Came down to get water. Heard you fussing with the lock. Go on, get inside. I’m gonna talk to Rhett.”

“Anyone ever tell you how bossy you are?”

“Oh good, you’re getting to know me,” he says.

Y’know, I’ve had all I can take from bossy fake boyfriends and bossy older brothers for one night. A hot bath for my sore ice-skating muscles sounds like a nice way to wash them both away.

“Wait,” Rhett says before I can get too far.

“What?” I snap.

“Thank you for a nice night, beautiful scorpion. See you in the morning.”

That takes me a second. Morning. He means the ice rink. “Yeah, thanks for dinner.”

I make it to the hallway. Jack’s head leans out of their bedroom door and he’s waving his hand, calling me over, big dopey smile on his face.

“What?” I whisper yell, assuming the baby is asleep. I don’t see the needy little bundle anywhere. He tugs me into their room, and I note that it’s not in its bassinet either.

“Baby’s in his crib for the first time and the kids are asleep. C’mere. I wanna hear about your first date.”

He sits on the bed, folding one leg under himself and letting the other hang off the bed. His hair’s messier than Merc’s was andugh, too many clues as to what they were up to. At least Jack’s wearing a shirt. “Tell me, tell me, tell me,” he says like we’re two young kids having a sleepover, bouncing and jostling me. “I wanna hear everything.”

Merc’s expression about golden retriever puppies looking like assholes next to Jack comes to mind. He really is such a fucking ray of sunshine. “I don’t know why. It wasn’t real. It was more like a business meeting, to be honest.”

Except the part where he kissed you in front of everyone.

Jack leans over to the bedside table for his phone. “Nothing, eh?”

He’s pulled up a picture from social media. Loud and proud is the kiss that ruined my life. I rip the phone from his fingers and stare. It only happened maybe forty minutes ago, but it’s up on the Elkington family social account. Holy shit. The expediency of how quickly this made internet news was expected, but what I didn’t expect was how we would look.

Rhett had his lips on me so fast, I barely had time to register what was happening. I didn’t have time to overthink it, participating in the charade.

This is the moment I let go. My eyes are closed, my body’s relaxed. I didn’t need to do anything because Rhett had me. And boy does he have me. I’m even hanging onto his blazer for dear life—I don’t remember doing that—but it’s like I wanted to cling to him.

Scrolling through the other images tells the same story. I’m left mystified by a simple kiss. God, I’m pathetic. I’ve spent years avoiding men like Rhett, only to end up in his arms. I will not become a romance trope.

I shrug. “We were acting. Part of this is for your benefit,” I remind him. Some of it isn’t, unless maybe it is. Rhett is different than I anticipated. Maybe he is just a guy who made a mistake. Maybe Jack does still love him. He seems to want to spend time with him.

Resistance boils my blood.

“I know something about Rhett. There’s no acting here. Not on his part and not on yours either. Spill it, Lo.”

I’d have every right to argue for him to stay out of my business, but there’s only one damn thing I can think about. “You think he wanted to kiss me?”

“Duh, dude. Look at this.Look.”

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