His mouth hung open momentarily. “You’re not?”
“No. We had lunch at the game and both got the closure we needed. You don’t walk away from a three-year relationship without taking a minute to let it go, Josh.”
“But I saw you in his arms.” His brow furrowed, and I desperately wanted to smooth the lines in his forehead with my fingers.
“You saw me hugging him good-bye, yes. I tried to catch you and explain, but you were gone, and then you wouldn’t take my calls.” I shifted my weight toward him, making the chains of the swing squeak.
“You’re not with Riley?”
What was he, a parrot? “No.”
“Why not?”
I bit my lip, gnawing on the possibility of letting him in, all the way in. Just a few words, that would be all it took for him to know what he meant to me. But those few words opened me up to all the hurt I’d been trying to protect myself from.
He reached over the distance that separated us and stroked his fingers down my cheek. “December, why not?”
I savored the sound of my name from his mouth.
“Please, tell me?”
His plea broke me. “Because he’s not you.” The confession slipped past my lips in a whisper before I could use my better judgment.
A ragged sigh burst from his lips a second before he claimed mine. Without preamble, his tongue swept inside my mouth and took me in a crushing kiss. With what sanity I had left, I pulled away. “Why aren’t you upstairs with Barbie? She’s a pretty little package.”
He rested his forehead against mine. “Because everything I want is wrapped up in you, Ember.”
“Everything about me is . . . just messed up. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
“You. I’m getting into you, December. That’s all I need.” He finished his promise against my mouth, and I lost myself in him. “Just give me a chance.”
Chances meant vulnerability, and I knew I couldn’t survive another loss, especially if it was from Josh. But my other option was not to have him. So there was only really one choice.
“Okay, let’s give this a chance.”
Chapter Eighteen
Three knocks sounded on the door. Josh was right on time.
I checked my makeup in the mirror, like I hadn’t already done it a dozen times or more. Yup, my face was still there. I let out a deep breath and tried to slow my racing heart as I opened the door for our Friday night date.
The slow smile that spread across his face sent my heart rate flying again. “Hi.”
His teeth bit into his lower lip a scant second before he shook his head at me. “You can’t wear that.”
Ouch. “You don’t like it?” I looked down at the short, flirty skirt Sam had talked me into, paired with leggings and a low-cut sweater. This was her idea of “helping” the situation along.
“Oh no, I like it.” His eyes darkened. “You look edible, Ember. But you’ll freeze that cute little rear of yours off if you wear it.”
“What do you want me to wear?”
“Pants.”
I laughed. “These are pants.”
“Those are glorified pantyhose.” He took three steps, backing me against the entry-hall wall. My breath hitched as he reached down my left leg and lifted it, curling it by the knee around his waist. One move, and he had me so turned on I was ready to forgo the date and skip to the good-night kiss, or more. Or something. He ran his hand from my exposed ankle up my legging-clad calf, across the back of my knee and up my thigh, stopping where the skirt began. He brought his forehead down to rest against mine. “I can feel every curve of you under these, December, just as if my hand was on your naked skin.”
I arched up for a kiss and he pulled back, his eyes dark with familiar desire. “If I kiss you now, there will be no date.”
“I’m okay with that.”
With one last stroke of my leg, he released it from his waist and gently set it back to the ground. He lifted his hands like he was under arrest and backed away slowly. “Pants. Now.”
I pushed off the wall and headed back to my bedroom to change with an uncontrollable smile on my face. I had Josh Walker close to losing control.
Thank God for the stupid pants.
“I cannot believe this is your idea of a date.” I looked up at the ceiling of the Honnen Ice Arena for the fifth time this hour from my back. I’d been down so often that the cold had seeped through my vest, shirt, and into my skin. At least I’d worn gloves to spare my fingers.
Josh laughed, pulling me up yet again. “I guess it’s a pretty good way to get you on your back.”
“Ha. Ha.” My feet slipped out from underneath me, but he had a firm enough grip to keep me upright. It was the first time in his arms that I wasn’t thinking about taking his clothes off. “I can’t believe you find this fun.”
He skated me toward the goal and made sure I was steady before he skated around me. “This is where I live. Everything else is just breathing to get by.”
“So basically you brought me here to show off?”
He skated backward away from me, his grin drawing me in like nothing else could. “Is it working?”
“It’s making my butt sore.”
His laugh echoed around the empty hall. I skated out a few yards, forgetting my precarious position, and lost myself in watching him. He turned so quickly, I couldn’t believe he didn’t fall, and cut back toward me. It was true: this is where he lived, not just existed. There was vitality in him that didn’t exist anywhere else but on the ice. He’d had it in high school, but it had increased since then. He skated more powerfully, and yet had more control now. He was more skilled and more comfortable with it, more daring when the situation called for it, and more patient when daring wasn’t the way to go.