Page 23 of Second-Rate Superstar

Glaring at me with brilliant blue eyes, she countered, “I can go home right now. Don’t test me.”

The last thing I wanted was for her to cut our “date” short. Maybe I was delusional, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this girl was special. And it was nagging at me day and night to find out why.

Holding my hands up in surrender, I backed down. “Sorry. But may I suggest ditching the snow gear? It’s chilly, but not frozen-tundra-level cold inside the rink.”

“You were the one who said to dress warm,” Dakota grumbled.

Chuckling, I conceded, “You’re right. I did. I shouldn’t have been so vague. Word choice matters.”

Those blue eyes snapped up to mine and widened. “What did you just say?”

“Word choice matters?” She nodded, and I shrugged. “All I was trying to say was that you have to be careful how you use words and phrasing to make sure they have the right meaning.”

Blinking at me for a moment, she shook her head slightly as if to clear it. “Uh-huh.”

What was going on here? I tilted my head, hoping she would offer further explanation, but when she didn’t, I let it drop.

“Can I help you with your coat?” I offered, outstretching a hand.

Stepping back, Dakota put space between us. “I’ve got it. Hands to yourself.”

Shoving both hands in my track pants, I made it clear I wouldn’t try to touch her again as she shed her coat. Beneath, she wore only a T-shirt. It made sense since it was mid-October that she wouldn’t think to layer with the winter coat.

“The snow pants, too,” I commanded.

Dakota shot me a glare, her body tensing. “Is this a game? You purposely tell me to overdress so you can watch me strip down?”

Had she always been so defensive? From my conversation with Bristol, I knew she’d been hurt by an athlete. It wasn’t hard to believe she threw up walls to protect herself; I often did the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I was definitely interested in what she had going on under those clothes, but she didn’t realize that I was more intrigued at the prospect of discovering the girl hiding beneath the mask.

“To prove it’s not my evil plan to watch you shed layers, I’ll go grab your skates. What size do you need?”

She sighed, and I watched as her muscles visibly relaxed at my offer. “I’m a size seven.”

“Coming right up,” I threw over my shoulder, already headed for the rental counter.

Telling the attendant what size I needed, I explained that I would be right back to pick them up. Making a quick detour into the pro shop, I snaggeda few items for Dakota. Grabbing the skates, I returned to where she sat on a bench, already shucking her sneakers.

“Here.” I placed the skates beside her feet.

“Thanks,” she replied, not looking up before shoving her feet inside and working on the laces.

Noticing she wasn’t tightening them enough, I dropped the rest of the items I carried on the seat beside her, getting down on one knee.

“What are you doing?” Dakota asked, panicked, when I covered her hands with mine, halting her motions.

Staring up at her, our faces were barely a breath away with her bent over. Every cell in my body screamed for me to close the gap and capture her lips in a kiss, but I knew that would ruin everything. She wasn’t ready. And if I was being honest, I wanted more than a meaningless physical relationship. That meant playing the long game.

A kiss now would mean game over.

“Braxton?” There was a question in her eyes.

Clearing my throat, I forced out, “Your skates. You can’t leave them too loose, or you’ll hurt your ankles.” Daring to hope she might let me do this one small thing, I asked, “May I?”

Dakota chewed on her lip but nodded, removing her hands.

Making quick work of the laces, I stood before I was tempted to do anything more. “All done,” I declared.

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