My car is parked right outside, and I open the door for Ally.“Such a gentleman,” she deadpans, sliding in carefully so her dress doesn't ride up.I try not to stare at her legs.
Obviously, I fail.Can't help it.I remember what they felt like wrapped around my head and I want more.
“I have my moments.”
I round the car and climb into the driver's seat, stealing another glance at her.So fucking perfect.Even when she's trying to hide the fact that she's enjoying my company.
We pull away from campus, and I watch her from the corner of my eye as she relaxes into the seat.The evening light catches the red fabric, making it glow, and I have to force myself to focus on the road instead of imagining peeling that dress off her later.
Focus, Cross.Don't be a creep.
Then she notices where we're heading.
“Jay.”She sits up straighter, and I can already hear the concern creeping into her voice.“Are we going to an ice rink?”
“Perceptive.”
She turns to stare at me with an expression that's equal parts horrified and furious—which is impressive given how good she looks in that dress.“You're taking me ice skating?On your leg?The leg that you nearly destroyed because you're a reckless idiot who doesn't listen to medical advice?”
“Wow.Tell me how you really feel.”
“I feel like you're about to undo weeks of recovery because you wanted to impress me with your skating skills!”Her voice is rising, and it shouldn't be adorable, but it is.“Do you have any idea how much damage you could do?One wrong move and you're looking at surgery, Jay.Actual surgery.And then what?Your contract with the Leviathans—”
“Ally.”I reach over and squeeze her knee, and we both freeze for a second at the contact.I force myself to focus.“Relax.”
“Don't tell me to relax when you're about to—”
“I'm not skating.”
She blinks.“What?”
“I'm not skating,” I repeat, trying not to smile at how worked up she got.The fact that she cares this much about my leg—aboutme—makes my chest ache in the best way.“I need a break after last night's win.Plus—” I wink at her.“I need my thigh taped again before I try anything strenuous.Figured I'd ask my favorite therapist.”
“I'm not your therapist anymore.”
“Exactly.Which means there's no ethical issues if you want to get your hands on me.”
“You're insufferable.”
“You like it.”
She doesn't respond, but her cheeks are flushed again—though whether that's from my comment or the fact that my hand is still on her knee, I can't tell.I reluctantly move it back to the steering wheel.
I pull into the rink parking lot, which is busier than usual for a weekday evening.Ally frowns at the cars as I park.
“What's going on here?”
“You'll see.”I'm already out of the car, rounding to her side to open the door.“Come on.”
She takes my hand as she steps out, and I get another look at that red dress in the parking lot lights.I think my legs are even weaker now.
“You're staring,” she says.
“You wore a red dress.I'm allowed to stare.”
“You're not allowed to do anything.”
“We'll see about that.”
