Page 64 of Romancing the Grump
Nathan
You won’t be. You’ll fall, but I won’t let you break your face. And you will look ridiculous, but I promise not to laugh.
Summer
GEE, THANKS.
Parker
Perfect. Yay. I’ll check the rink’s schedule and let you know when we can make it happen.
And yes, I’m totally crashing your date. But only enough to film a little, then you’re totally on your own!
CHAPTER 15
SUMMER
I spend entirely too long tryingto figure out what to wear to the skating rink. Harvest Hollow has finally tipped into spring the past couple of weeks, bright green buds popping up all over the trees. Even though it’s still cool in the mornings, the afternoon temperatures are just warm enough to go without a coat. But skating rinks are cold.Ice-cold.So maybe I need layers?
I finally settle on my favorite Lucky Brand jeans and a cable knit sweater that happens to be Appies turquoise blue. It’s actually a little weird how much of this color I have in my wardrobe, seeing as how none of it was intentional. Once I’m dressed, I spend a few minutes weaving my hair into a loose braid, then touch up my makeup. I’m ready with fifteen minutes to spare and enough nervous energy to keep me pacing circles around my living room while I wait.
I didn’t see Nathan at the Summit today. I haven’t actually seen him since he kissed me goodbye at the airport, atleast not in person. That saying about distance making the heart grow fonder? Absolutely true. Because five days without Nathan around has made me miss him enough to stop caring that our relationship isn’t real.
Tonight, we have a purpose to our date. Parker wants us to be seen together in a place sure to be full of Appies fans. That’s all well and good, but for me, tonight is really about seeing Nathan again, to hang out with him like I did in Chicago.
Ten minutes later, when I open my door to find him leaning in, hands hooked over the top of the door jamb, my heart might as well jump out of my chest and plop onto the floor at his feet.
He looks good.So good.Every time I see him wearing something different, I think it might be my favorite look on him, but honestly, he just makes everything look amazing. Today, it’s jeans and a faded Henley, with a light gray flannel on top. His hair is pulled back, and he looks perfectly, delectably kissable.
I’ve been dreading the thought of learning how to skate while a crowd is watching, but I suddenly don’t care about the crowd. The more people there are watching, the easier it will be to justify doing all the things the rules say we can’t do in private.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey.” Nathan’s eyes rove over me, his gaze piercing in a way that makes my skin prickle in a good way. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” I glance at his ribs. “How are you feeling? Did you practice today?”
Near the end of his last game against the Phantoms, Nathan took a hit that was serious enough to take him out for the rest of the period. It completely stressed me out whenit happened—I was watching the game online—and I wound up stress-eating an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s while I waited for Parker to text me updates. For that reason alone, it feels good to see Nathan whole and well in front of me.
“Yeah. I’m all good,” he says. “A little black and blue, but I’ve seen worse.”
I bite my lip, hating the thought of all that perfect skin marred by a bruise. It would be weird to ask him to show me, wouldn’t it? I don’t even know why I want him to. I just feel this strange compulsion to see for myself that he’s okay.
“Do you…want to see?” he asks, his brow furrowed.
“What? No! Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re staring at my ribs like your laser vision might kick in any second.”
I lift my gaze to his, catching the teasing glint in his eye. “Sorry. Is that weird? I just want to know you’re okay.”
He breathes out a playful sigh, then lifts his shirt, revealing a grapefruit-sized purple bruise just below his right pectoral muscle that wraps down and extends under his arm.
I suck in a breath at the sight, horrified but also weirdly impressed that he’s standing here like this is no big deal, fully intending to go back to work tomorrow and subject himself to the same kind of treatment.
Without really thinking, I lift a hand and trace it down the side of the bruise. “This is crazy, Nathan. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Goosebumps break out across his skin, and he sucks in a tiny gasp before he reaches down and catches my hand, pulling it away as he drops the hem of his shirt. “I promise I’m okay. It’s just a bruise.”
