How much longer should he let this go on? Christmas was two weeks away. He’d definitely end it before then, as planned.
“When you’re on your date with Molly,” she said, “I want you two to do something that enables you to have fun, too.”
“This is not that.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m going to crawl over to the exit of the rink now—”
Another snort of laughter from her.
“—but I’d like you to skate as long as you want. That would make me feel better about dragging you all the way out here.”
“I’ve never been one to skate for hours. I’ll go for a little bit longer, and that’ll be enough.”
“I’ll wait for you, but no hurry. I have some things I need to check on my phone.”
“I’m guessing checking things on your phone is preferable to this?”
“Anything on dry land, including having surgery, would be preferable to this.”
“If you attempt any more skating, surgery might become a possibility for you.” A dimple dug into her cheek as she adjusted her scarf.
“Can I buy you coffee when you’re done, to pay you back for this debacle?”
“Certainly. I take payment for my consultation services in the form of rented ice skates and gingerbread lattes.”
•••
An hour later, Shay let herself into her matchbox apartment and set about unwrapping her winter layers and getting dinner going. Frozen enchiladas—dinner of champions.
Connor Bryant was the worst ice skater she’d ever seen in her life. Comically bad. However, she hadn’t been lying when she’d told him that his good attitude on the ice could appeal to Molly. She knew for a fact it could, because that’s the effect it’d had on her.
He hadn’t lost his temper or his cool. He’d been able to laugh at himself and remained genuinely good-natured the whole time. With his auburn coloring, the cold had brought out red patches near his cheekbones, which had made him look extremely hot in a British rugby player kind of way.
But the most slaying thing about their date—pretenddate—was that he’d been willing to subject himself to ice skating for Molly.
Dang it!
Once again, he’d proven he’d go the extra mile.
Numerous times tonight, she’d wondered if Connor was picking up on the very tangible chemistry between her and him. Each time, she’d decided that no, he wasn’t. She’d observed him interacting with the women at his school, and he’d appeared oblivious to their interest. No doubt he was equally oblivious to the electricity she was feeling.
After all, they’d known each other a long time. Nothing had changed between herself and Connor except one thing—her emotions toward him. “‘Can you feel the love tonight?’” She sang theLion Kinglyric under her breath.
She’d signed up for this project so blithely. In doing so, she’d gotten herself into a predicament. She was beginning to harbor legit jealousy toward Molly, a woman whose identity she didn’t even know.
Merry Christmas to you, Shay. Merry Christmas to you.
Chapter Six
Only a day had passed since they’d gone ice skating. To Shay, it felt like a week.
She sat cross-legged on her sofa Saturday evening after returning home from a holiday dinner out with friends. Steadily, she chewed kernels of the peppermint and white chocolate popcorn a customer had given her while she watched a televised stage production ofWhite Christmas.
It really did feel like a week since she’d seen Connor. Fine! She’d text him.
Brushing off her hands, she selected her words the way a stationery lover selects greeting cards.
