Heartburn (Love By Design 3)

man?” He doesn’t think pink goes next yellow and hasn’t since seventh grade. He fixed them clearly annoyed, and my work here was done.

“Yup, and you call.” I tapped the table next to his phone.

“Yeah, but we all know TJ is wrapped around his pinkie. God, wait until those two start producing kids. Our plans are screwed.” Damien huffed. He looked like someone kicked his dog when really it was his best friend who decided to move out and live with his girl. We all saw the wedding writing on the walls even if Damien didn’t want too.

“Speak for yourself. That’s my bestie and she’s been commandeered by the cockmonger.”

A snort escaped Damien. “You mean nailed?”

“Uh?” Lia looked at me helpless and I shrugged. This was typical Kristen and Damien chatter. They blew in like a hurricane and flooded everything with their crap, but they were good friends and we let them both get away with it far too long to stop them now. I blamed Hunter for not kicking his ass and Evan for not clearing up a decade’s old issue that was between them idiot to idiot. It was kind of our fault, but a bit too late to turn back the clocks.

I gave myself a headache rolling my eyes to respond with my executive decision. “What my nice friends, who so politely introduced themselves mean, is that they will see us over at the Ice Bar on Saturday.”

“Ice Skating! Yes!” Kristen pumped her fists while Damien looked ready to go to war raging Cersei style.

“Great, for Yamaguchi, here.” He flipped her off making both Lia and I laugh. I don’t know why Damien protested, after all, it was Hunter who couldn’t ice skate. I was certain he would only show up to supervise the crew if anything, and watch Taylor with her friends.

Damien grumbled, “Awe, don’t get all Harding on me. I need these knees if you want another blow…” The look between Damien and Kristen was enough to smolder a forest fire and I preferred to not get burned when one or both of them decided to light a match.

“Okay, that’s your cue to leave. I’ve got the check, just go.” Waving them off, I pushed Kristen out of the booth gently. I wasn’t a complete jerk. Damien slid out with a shit eating grin on his face.

Asshole.

But a good friend for being one.

Lia played with her spoon tapping it on the table before looking up at me. A smile played on her lips and I matched hers with one of my own. God, I could get lost in her eyes. As it were, I wanted to get naked with her and pretend I didn’t have to go to work and be responsible. She made me want to rekindle the reckless part of my soul I had tamped down a good decade earlier.

She spoke, “So, ice skating, huh?”

“Yes. Do you skate?” The last time I skated, I fell and spent more time trying to not bruise my ass more than necessary.

“A little,” she curled her hair behind the shell of her ear and I had this feeling I was about to get schooled on Saturday by an ice princess. The image suited me fine if she planned on wearing something tight and short to spin circles around me. It was one winter sport I didn’t mind being a spectator for. I’d hand her my man card with no reservations if it meant getting my hands on her ass and pulling her tight against me as we slid over the ice.

“Well, if you don’t, they have a nice booth where we can have hot chocolate and hang out under these stand up heaters.” I rubbed my hands together warming them up before taking hers in mind forcing her to let go of the spoon she had been tapping. She squeezed my hands letting go leaving me hanging yet again. What was with this girl? I couldn’t get enough of her and I couldn’t let her go.

She smiled, mischief filling her eyes and hands propped under her chin coyly. “It sounds like fun.” She gave me a casual shrug.

Yeah, I was definitely screwed like Kerrigan out of Olympic gold, but crying why wasn’t going to change anything about it.

Time to man up, Mr. Jones.

15

Lia

“How could you keep this from me?” Whit navigated his jeep palming his chest trying to look insulted while covered in holey mittens that had to be older than me. His aggrieved expression didn’t match the bright blue and yellow yarn popped against his woolen coat and the matching scarf that had this Harry Potter feel to it. On the drive over to the rink in Kingston, he told me they were one of the last things his grandmother knitted for him. I thought it was adorable he kept them to wear.

“I didn’t keep anything from you.” I sighed watching out the window as we pulled into the ice rinks’ nearly full parking lot. It looked to be a busy day. I didn’t recognize any of the cars and hoped I could escape being immersed in Whit’s world with his funny friends and not have to worry about my world colliding with his.

I felt like an outlier everywhere I went. Too young to be with Whit at times and too old souled to be with my own contemporaries who didn’t understand there was more to life than fucking up college and making bad decisions, and this was despite my undeclared major. I wished I could figure me out, but that hadn’t happened yet, might not for a long time still. And yet here I was with this funny, sexy man who for some reason was still interested in me.

I was bound to mess this up.

“Next you’ll tell me you’ve got six toes hidden in those boots of yours.” He made it sound like being a Hemingway cat was a crime and I laughed. Nope, the only crime going on here was possibly his fashion sense and I was keeping my lips sealed shut on that.

“No six toes, besides you’ve already seen me naked.” I reminded him drolly.

Whit muttered, “I better double check your toes later.” He shrugged getting out of the jeep walking inside with me. The shrug earned him a pop in the shoulder and he hugged me tight against him. It felt good to be wanted.