Page 25 of Second-Rate Superstar

Holding her close was comfortable. Too comfortable. My dick stirred, and I had to put space between us before I embarrassed myself.

Steadying her with hands on her waist, I searched her eyes. “You good?”

Nodding, she let out a shaky breath. “Don’t let me go.”

With pleasure.

Tilting my head, I teased, “How long since you last went skating?”

Twisting her lips, she whispered, “When I was ten.”

“And you’re how old now?”

“Twenty-one.” Dakota dropped her eyes.

“Okay, new plan,” I declared.

She eyed me skeptically. “I swear to God, if you pull out one of those plastic skating walkers that toddlers use, I’m outta here.”

I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing at the mental image of her hunched over, using a child-sized skating aid.

Since I had a firm grasp on her, keeping her from hitting the ice, she smacked me lightly on the arm. “Not funny.”

“Sorry,” I wheezed out. “Maybe you can do it later so I have something to remember you by when you kick my ass to the curb.”

“Might be sooner than you think, pretty boy.”

My laughter halted immediately, but the grin was stuck on my face. “You think I’m pretty?”

Dakota rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend you’re not a physically attractive man. That’s just a fact. Can wepleaseget back to the task at hand?”

Maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as I’d once thought. Attraction was a good starting point. I could work with that.

“Okay,” I agreed, giving her a little bit of the smolder. I could wear her down. Confidence was nine-tenths of the law.

I released one hand from her waist, and panicked eyes met mine as Dakota reached out to grab my forearm in a death grip.

“You said you wouldn’t let go!” she cried.

“Hey, you’re all right,” I said soothingly. “I was only shifting so you could hold my hand. Unless . . .”

“Unless what?” Dakota asked cautiously.

“Unless you want me to lift you like a figure skater.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You can do that?”

“No. But I figured if you were really that scared, you wouldn’t mind being my test dummy.”

“Jerk,” she spat.

“Just laying out all the options.” I shrugged. “You good with a single hand?”

She huffed. “Fine.”

Easing her free hand into mine, I turned us so that we faced the same direction, side by side. Gliding a foot forward, I tugged Dakota along as her fingers tightened around mine and her legs wobbled beneath her.

“That’s it. Doing great,” I encouraged as we made our way down the length of the rink.

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