Page 78 of The Mistake

“Perfectly fine by me,” I finish, and he gives a knowingchuckle.

His thigh is pressed up against mine, a hard slab of flesh that demonstrates how ripped he is. My short black dress has ridden up a bit, and I hope he doesn’t notice the goose bumps rising on my bare legs. I’m not cold. Just the opposite, in fact. His nearness, and the heat of his body, makes me feverish.

“Can I ask you something?” he hedges, after the waiter recites the specials and pours us two glasses of sparkling water.

“Sure.” I angle my body so we can actually look at each other. This same-side thing was not designed for eye contact.

“How come you don’t ask me about hockey?”

I freeze, which he obviously mistakes for discomfort, because he hurries on almost apologetically. “Not that I mind. It’s actually kind of refreshing. Most girls ask me about nothingbuthockey, like they think it’s the only topic I’m capable of talking about. It’s just strange that you’ve never brought it up, not even once.”

I reach for my water glass and take a very, very long sip. Not the most brilliant stalling tactic, but it’s the only one I can think of. I knew this would come up eventually. If anything, I’m surprised it didn’t come up sooner. But that doesn’t mean I was looking forward to it.

“Well. Um. The thing is…” I inhale, then continue with rapid fire speed. “Imnotahockeyfan.”

A wrinkle appears in his forehead. “What?”

I repeat myself, slowly this time, with actual pauses between each word. “I’m not a hockey fan.”

Then I hold my breath and await his reaction.

He blinks. Blinks again. And again. His expression is a mixture of shock and horror. “You don’t like hockey?”

I regretfully shake my head.

“Not even a little bit?”

Now I shrug. “I don’t mind it as background noise?—”

“Background noise?”

“—but I won’t pay attention to it if it’s on.” I bite my lip. I’m already in this deep—might as well deliver the final blow. “I come from a football family.”

“Football,” he says dully.

“Yeah, my dad and I are huge Pats fans. And my grandfather was an offensive lineman for the Bears back in theday.”

“Football.” He grabs his water and takes a deep swig, as if he needs to rehydrate after that bombshell.

I smother a laugh. “I think it’s awesome that you’re so good at it, though. And congrats on the Frozen Four win.”

Logan stares at me. “You couldn’t have told me thisbeforeI asked you out? What are we even doing here, Grace? I can never marry you now—it would be blasphemous.”

His twitching lips make it clear that he’s joking, and the laughter I’ve been fighting spills over. “Hey, don’t go canceling the wedding just yet. The success rate for inter-sport marriages is a lot higher than you think. We could be a Pats-Bruins family.” I pause. “But no Celtics. I hate basketball.”

“Well, at least we havethatin common.” He shuffles closer and presses a kiss to my cheek. “It’s all right. We’ll work through this, gorgeous. Might need couples counseling at some point, but once I teach you to love hockey, it’ll be smooth sailing for us.”

“You won’t succeed,” I warn him. “Ramona spent years trying to force me to like it. Didn’t work.”

“She gave up too easily then. I, on the other hand, never give up.”

No, he certainly doesn’t. If he did, we wouldn’t be in this incredibly romantic restaurant right now, nestled together on the same side of the booth.

“Hey, speaking of Ramona.” His expression darkens slightly. “What’s going on with you two?”

Tension trickles down my spine. “You mean since she went behind my back and offered tocomfortyou after V-Day?”

He grins. “You call it V-Day? I’ve been calling it V-Night.”

---