Page 133 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
“Hello...” Luke says, his eyes gleaming.
“H-hi.”
He ducks his head out the corridor. “Everyone is gone.” He turns to me, boyish grin in place. “Want to go back to my place?”
I stiffen, and his shoulders slump.
“Oh,” he says, and I hate the melancholic note of the sound. “I guess that’s not why you’re visiting.”
“I want to,” I say quickly. “I-I missed you a lot.”
“Oh yeah?”
“But they would be suspicious if I’m not there tonight, after what...”
He nods, then clutches my hands with his. “Just as long as you still like me. I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“I couldn’t possibly not like you,” I say, my voice solemn.
“Good.”
I hesitate. I need to tell him more. “I’m serious. Like... Really serious.”
“I hurt you professionally.”
“Nonsense. I did that.” I scrunch my lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you at once. I thought about you. I know that’s not the same, but...”
He wraps me in his strong arms. “It’s all good, Sebastian. You were overwhelmed. Next time you come to me, right?”
I nod, even though I know we don’t have the time that allows for next times.
He smiles, and his eyes shimmer. “Would you like a thorough tour of the arena, Mr. Archer?”
“But—” I furrow my brow. I don’t want to go on a tour. I want to be in a quiet room with Luke.
Luke’s lips twitch, like he can hear all the things I’m thinking.
“I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
“Well, in that case...”
Luke takes my hand and leads me to the door. Then he drops my hand. “One day, I don’t want to let go of your hand.”
My hand tingles, even though we’re not touching.
I half-expect him to show me back to the massage room, but instead he leads me toward the ice. Cleaners descend upon it, carrying mops and buckets and large trash bags.
“It’s a bit crowded.”
“Yeah. It takes lots of people to make everything nice.”
“You did great.”
He shrugs, but his eyes glow, and I love the proud flush that curls up from the collar of his super sexy suit.
He still doesn’t take my hand, but he nudges my shoulder, and grins, and my heart swells.
And I’m not going to deny what it is.
