“Are you worried about going back? Worried about what Ari wants to do?”
He frowns and looks down. Once again, I get the sense that he’s holding something back from me. “I’m looking forward to getting back on the ice,” he says.
What about Ari? Doesn’t he miss her?
My heart gives a little jolt. Is it possible that after this week, he’s come to his senses and sees what kind of girl she really is? I never thought the pampered princess was meant for him. But like I said, I never thought any of the girls he went out with were right for him.
And why is that?
Oh, probably because none of them were me.
I’m in love with my best friend.
Dammit, girl. What have you done?
“I think I’d like to go back to our room. I have some packing to do,” I say.
Luke’s gaze rakes over my face. “It’s our last night. You don’t want to do something fun?”
“I’m worn out,” I say. “Plus, I want to go into the gift stores and pick up a few things for my mom and some friends.”
“Okay, I’ll go with you.”
I put my hand on his chest, and he angles his head. “No,” I say quickly, maybe too quickly, judging by the way his brow is furrowing. Hurrying to explain, I say, “I know you hate shopping, and getting you into the stores to get the swim suit was painful enough. I’ll go by myself.”
“Really?” he says, and I force a smile, pretending there is nothing wrong with me.
“Yes, really. I might even check with Becca to see if she wants to go with me. She mentioned something about shopping the other day.”
That seems to relax him. “Oh, okay. Then I’m out.”
We leave the rink, and sit on the bench to take off our rental skates. Luke drops to his knees before me and tears prick my eyes when he begins to loosen my laces. My God, I am so much in love with this man. I take a deep breath and it turns to fog in front of my face when I let it out slowly.
“You are tired, aren’t you?” Luke says.
“Yeah,” I say, thankful he’s mistaken my emotions.
“Let’s get room service, then you can hit the shops.”
I nod, and he puts his arm around me and leads me back to our suite. The warmth of the place washes over me and I glance around, memorize the place, and all the beautiful things we did in that bed…and that shower.
Luke places our order, and I busy myself with folding all my clothes and arranging them neatly in my suitcase. I flick the TV on, needing the background noise to keep me from dwelling on all the chaotic emotions making me weepy. Soon enough our food comes, and we enjoy a quiet dinner together, the last one we’ll have at the resort.
“That was delicious,” I say, as I push my plate away.
“Dessert?”
“Hell no.” I check the time.
“You’re perfect,” he says.
I roll my eyes at him. “I’d better get ready to go.”
“I’m going to jump in the shower.” He bends down, gives me a warm kiss on the mouth, and says, “Hurry back.”
He disappears into the bathroom, and when the water turns on, I press my palms to my eyes and work to pull myself together. My mind goes back to all the amazing sex we had this week. As I reminisce, I once again can’t help but think last night we made love in that bed.
Is it possible?