Page 17 of Love on the Ice
God, why am I this way? I clearly have no self-control when someone attractive looks my way. He just wants to be friends, and here I am, drooling over him.
“Sure,” Brooklynn states. “She would love that.”
Looking back at her, I give her wide eyes, but she only shrugs and turns her back to me, making her way into the house. I watch her for just a moment before I shift my attention back to Reid.
“Would you, though?” he asks.
I don’t know if he’s trying to give me an out or what, but I decide to throw caution to the wind. I would love to have an evening to forget. Reid does that. He lets me forget. Even after only one night with him, I know he’s someone who is a welcome distraction.
“Yeah, I would.”
Before I realize what’s happening, his fingers are curled around mine, and he’s dragging me behind him. I’m practically tossed into the front seat of his SUV before he closes the door behind me. He jumps into the driver’s seat, and before I have the wherewithal to buckle my seat belt, he’s gone. The car lurches forward onto the street, and we’re away.
I have no idea where we’re going, but I don’t think I care.
I’m with him—with Reid.
REID
I drive for a few blocks, the silence comfortable, but there is a tension I feel deep within my bones. I don’t ask her about it, mainly because if it’s about me, I don’t want to know. I’d rather live in denial for a while longer, mainly so I can try to change whatever negative she is thinking about me into a positive.
As I pull into a parking spot, I know the restaurant isn’t fancy. It looks a bit run down, but I know it’s amazing. And I know this one is going to make Lorelai hungry—extremely hungry because it’s Italian.
“Hungry?” I ask, turning my head to look at her.
Slowly, she shifts her attention to me, her eyes wide and her lips curved up. “Italian?” she asks. “Starving.”
Letting out a laugh, I push the door open and climb down from the SUV before I make my way over to her side to open the door for her. When I hold out my hand, she slips her fingers in mine, and I squeeze them gently as she climbs down onto the cement from the car.
I don’t release her hand when she’s firmly on the ground. Instead, I lace my fingers with hers, and together, we walk toward the restaurant's front door. I tug the door open, and we slip inside.
The hostess quickly seats us at a table and takes our drink orders. Once that's finished, I glance at the menu even though I know that the lasagna is the best thing here. I don’t say anything, though. I decide to let her choose her own food, especially since Italian is her favorite cuisine.
The waiter leaves us alone. I reach out across the table, touching the top of Lorelai’s hand. She turns it over, her gaze never leaving mine. “What?” she asks softly.
“Tell me what’s got you like that, Lore.”
Her gaze flicks to the table and our hands, and then slowly, she lifts it back to meet mine. When our eyes connect, I watch her, waiting for her to speak. What she says, I did not expect, and it instantly fills me with red-hot rage.
Lorelai tells the story of her day. How she failed her test, and how her professor attempted to extort her and blackmail her into getting what he wanted from her. He’d probably been watching her from the beginning and knew exactly how to play her.
Desperation.
I’ve seen it play out in other scenarios before. This is no different. I don’t say any of that, though. Instead, I let her get the whole story out.
“And that’s when we got home and saw you there.”
Leaning back in my chair, I reach for the glass of water and lift it to my lips. I have a million different things that not only do I want to say, but I could say and do. I want to do a hell of a lot to that perverted coward.
“I’m not exactly sure what to say,” I confess. “The biggest part of me wants to beat the shit out of him.”
“The other part of you?” she asks.
Leaning forward, I squeeze her hand again, my gaze searching hers. “The other part of me wants to make you forget it ever happened. Wipe it clear from your memory.”
Her lips part, her eyes widen, and as my words sink in, and she truly understands them, her cheeks tint pink. “Reid,” she exhales.
“Just telling you the truth, Lore.”