Page 134 of The Import Slot
He opens his mouth to reply just as Vicky taps on my door. I glance at Ryan, who pulls his clothes on, making himself decent.
“Come in.”
“Hey, guys.” She pokes her head around the door.
“Anyone fancy public skating? Ready to go in fifteen.” She closes the door, and I look at Ryan with a wide smile.
“This is huge!”
“What is?”
“Vicky, skating!”
“Vicky skates. What’s the big deal?”
“She’s not skated since I’ve known her! She’s refused!”
Every time there’s been an opportunity, she’s avoided it like the plague. “She’s one hundred per cent only going today because your brother is here.”
I can see his face change as he thinks. “Yeah, actually, I’ve never seen her skate since I’ve been here, you’re right. Do you remember when Vicky got you to tape that stick we signed?” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Vicky used to tape Lee’s stick all the time when we were kids. She knows how to tape a stick.”
“I love this,” I say. “Do you think they’ll get back together? Maybe she’ll fly back to Toronto with him.”
He snickers. “The way you say ‘Toronto’ is adorable.”
I raise a brow at him. “Anyway, are you skating?”
“Only if you are.”
“I can’t. I’ve got too much prep to do for tomorrow.”
“Come. We’ll all help later. It’ll be fine.”
“Ry—” My tone changes to one of pleading, and he knows it has nothing to do with the public skate.
“Fine, I’ll speak to Ronnie, but you’re coming skating.”
Chapter 34
Ryan
Assoonastheholidays are over and January rolls in, Jen is ready to pounce. She’s lying next to me, having just climbed into bed. My body is aching from my first game of the year, and I have a fresh bruise on my calf that will be purple for days, so I didn’t want to stick around tonight. I pull her close, and that’s when she takes the opportunity.
“Can we talk now?” Her head rests on my shoulder, her fingers trailing over my chest.
“That depends.”
“Right, look me in the eye and tell me what you want,” she says to me, sitting up and reaching for the button on the lamp. Light floods the room, and her big brown eyes lock onto mine.
“I want you,” I say, sitting up. I reach for her and pull her in, my lips finding her neck. “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.”
She nudges me away. “Stop it. I’m trying to have a serious conversation.” There’s a smile on her lips. “You’ll still have me. I told you I’ll come with you so you don’t have to choose.”
“I like it here. I like not having all the travel and media crap, though I miss having a chef,” I admit.
