Page 98 of Skating and Fake Dating
“Kiss me,” I whisper, the words rush toward him with nowhere else to go, leaving no question about what I want.
His mouth presses against mine and I draw him close, palms pressing against the muscular planes of his back. His hands skim down to rest at my waist.
The world falls away. The kiss is gentle at first, exploring as if he’s memorizing the feel of me. I’m aware of every sensation—the strength of his arms as they wrap around me, the soft pressure of his mouth against mine, and I inhale his fresh, masculine scent.
A shiver runs through me as the kiss deepens. My fingers find their way to his shoulders, then his neck, then tangle in his hair. The reality of kissing this man puts my cowboy dreams in my imagination to shame. Nothing could have prepared me for this rush of emotion, this sense of coming home that I feel in his arms. This connection.
This time, when we kiss, there are no interruptions, no storm, no doubts. Just the two of us and we’ve found our way to something real … to each other.
When we break apart, we both take shallow breaths. I offer him a shaky smile, overcome by the intensity of what passes between us.
“Wow, that wasn’t practice,” is all I can manage, referring to when we kissed at the Maple Falls overlook, in the kitchen, and on the front porch as my mind struggles to form coherent thoughts.
He rests his forehead against mine, and I close my eyes, savoring the closeness. “Nope. I reckon this is for real, Blondie.”
My hand rests on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart.
I lift my gaze to his and see promise, certainty and affection there. Once again, butterfly tingles rush through me, more intense now, spreading through my entire body.
“Can I kiss you again?” he asks, and the desire in his question makes my heart swell.
Instead of answering, I press my lips to his this time. I meet him with my own longing.
This kiss feels like an unspoken vow between us. His arms tighten around me, and I melt against him, feeling as though I’ve finally found the place I belong.
As our hands explore and hearts race, the kiss deepens, softens, grows, and goes in new directions with the promise of more for the future.
When we separate, I’m covered in the phantom impression of his kisses—not just on my lips, but everywhere his love has touched me, seeping into my skin, my heart. It’s overwhelming and perfect all at once.
He laces our fingers together and kisses the top of my head, a gesture so tender it makes my eyes sting with happiness, and I beam a smile.
“I never knew it could feel like this,” I whisper, my fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw.
“Like finding a part of yourself you never knew was missing,” he says.
I smile, feeling something profound blooming in my chest—something I’ve been afraid to name until now. All my carefully constructed walls have crumbled in his presence, leaving me vulnerable yet somehow stronger than I’ve ever been.
“So,” he murmurs, “does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?”
“You can call me anything you want, including Blondie.”
As the late afternoon sun streams through the arena windows, casting golden light across the ice, he kisses me again.
My thoughts briefly drift to how unexpected detours, including flight delays, a reluctant return trip home, and road construction, led me not only to exactly where I’m meant to be, but who I’m supposed to be with.
EPILOGUE 1: CARSON
I enter the arena with my skates slung over my shoulder. I’m fifteen minutes early, as usual. Some habits never change, but the reason behind them has. It’s not anxiety driving me anymore, not the desperate need to prove myself after last season’s disappointments. Now it’s something lighter, something better. I want to finish practice and get back to Bailey.
The locker room gradually fills with the guys, their voices echoing off the walls as they suit up.
Lucian tosses me a roll of tape. “Early bird gets the ice time. Excited for Turkey Day?”
Coach Hauser sticks his head in. “Gentlemen, let’s make this quick and painless. Everyone has somewhere to be.”
The guys cheer in agreement.
Weston pipes up, “Carson’s just eager to get back to his not-so-Bogus Bailey.”
