Page 129 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
I want to tell her that I’m pretty sure that I fell in lo—
Well. Maybe I wouldn’t tell her that because I’m not sure it’s true.
Except it definitely feels true. It feels absolutely true.
“You like him, huh? Bryce was right?” Her eyes sparkle, and this feels like normal.
It feels like going out for drinks after work at rooftop bars or ordering takeout at work and playing loud music when we have the floor to ourselves.
Except...
My gaze falls on a camera.
Why is she asking me this here? When cameras surround me?
Something doesn’t make sense. The Ella I knew was smart. She would spot a fake application during one of the final rounds. Why would she agree to a telephone interview and not set up a videoconference? Why would she announce his name before getting proper confirmation he was interested?
Because she wanted to pressure him.
She wanted his agent to see lots of reasons why he should participate. Maybe she even wanted to pressure me to get him, because she knew my stance on jocks. At least, my former stance on jocks.
I scrunch my lips together. I want to tell Ella everything, but instead I rise.
“I should go.”
“We’re still filming.”
“I trust you to let me know if there’s anything I should do to narrate.”
“But—”
I don’t turn back. I feel her still looking at me, but I only quicken my steps. I need to get out of here. I grab my coat, and button it up as I step into Boston’s winter. The chill refreshes me. Instead of turning to the house, I turn toward the Charles. I quicken my pace and take out my phone. I press on Luke’s name.
He doesn’t answer.
For a moment, all the bad thoughts rise through me.
He doesn’t care.
But it’s evening in Boston and... Well, of course, he’s at the Blizzards Arena. I quicken my pace, then enter into a jog, thankful I switched my California shoes for proper East Coast ones. Snow glitters from the sidewalk, shiny and sparkling under the streetlamps, and the moon glows above, surrounded by shimmering stars, fainter underneath the city haze but still visible.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Luke
God, I wish I wasn’t on the ice. Sebastian and the women are arriving back from Ashcove now.
I want to run to Back Bay, yank him from whatever interview the schedule says he is doing now, and tell him I lo—
I blink.
Where did that thought come from?
The announcer blares and Dmitri lines up beside me. “You okay?”
Maybe my jaw drops.
“I can display—what do you call it—sympathy too,” he says.
