Page 30 of My Best Bet

His eyes flew back to mine. “Allergic?” His eyebrows knit together. “To what?”

“It’s… Well,” I pulled my skate up to the bench and hugged my knee, “I don’t know if it’s an allergy for real? But itisa rash.”

“And it’s from…?” he coaxed.

“Stress,” I breathed out.

His forehead creased. “No shit?”

“No shit.” I smirked. I never swore, but it felt right to say.

“Does it… hurt?” he asked, eyeing my neck in sympathy.

“It’s not pleasant,” I said with a tight chuckle. “I’m trying very hard not to scratch my neck all up right now.”

He frowned like this upset him. “It’s itchy?”

I nodded.

“Can I see?”

I laughed. “Why? It’s all ugly looking.”

His face was serious when he said, “Nothing about you could ever be ugly, Bennett.”

I paused at his words. He didn’t call me pretty, but saying not ugly was kind of the same thing, right?

“Well, how do you fix it?”

“Stop stressing,” I said with a snort. “Basically like telling me to stop skating.”

He sighed and stretched his legs out. “And that’s basically like telling you to stop breathing.”

My eyes locked on the side of his face.He wasn’t calling me a baby or saying I was weak or that I should quit. Heunderstood. “Yeah.”

“A figure skater who’s allergic to stress,” he mused with a lopsided grin.

“A hockey player who hates hitting,” I matched his tone.

A deep laugh rolled out of him, and I loved the sound. “What a pair we make, eh?”

“We?” I questioned.

“Mmhmm.” He scooched closer to me and reached his large hand over and squeezed my thigh, making butterflies dance in my stomach. I wanted him to keep touching me. “We,” he said firmly. “Wait, so why are you in here all alone then? Not that I'm not grateful for it.” He dipped his head and a shy grin played on his lips when he said, “Finally get a chance to talk to you and it’s when my head’s all…” he trailed off and shook his head.

He’d beenwantingto talk to me. It was exactly what I dreamed of him saying.

And his use ofweechoed in my head.

I wanted that sosobadly. I wanted someone I could confide in. Someone who was on my side. Someone that would tell me everything would be okay.

I just wasn’t sure if he could be that someone– even though I desperately wanted him to be.

But what if we went back to just sneaking glances at each other? If that happened, I’d feel stupid knowing that he was walking around with all my secrets.

After a beat, I decided on playing it safe and keeping it short. “I just don’t want to take my skates off.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Why?”

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