Chapter 3
3
I’ve officially entered a parallel universe.
That’s the only explanation I can come up with as I watch superstar Jack Winters struggle to untangle a string of fairy lights from around a mannequin’s neck in my boutique. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his tongue poking out slightly at the corner of his mouth. It’s adorable, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“Do you need help with that?” I ask, pushing aside a rack of dresses as I step toward him.
“Nope,” he says, his voice determined. “I’ve got this.” He tugs at the lights, and the mannequin wobbles dangerously. “Okay, maybe I don’t got this.”
I giggle, unable to help myself, and Jack shoots me a playful glare. “Go ahead, laugh it up. I’d like to see you try to skate backward at thirty miles an hour.”
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms as I lean against the counter. “Last time I checked, we weren’t hosting the Winter Olympics in my boutique. You’re in my world now, Jack.”
He grins, finally freeing the lights and holding them up triumphantly. “Your world, huh?” He steps closer, the lights dangling from his fingers as his ice-blue eyes lock on mine. “I think I could get used to that.”
My heart does a little somersault in my chest, and I suddenly feel like I’ve forgotten how to breathe. The way he’s looking at me—like I’m the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes my pulse race and my knees wobble.
“Is that so?” I manage to say, my voice a little breathless.
Jack steps even closer, closing the distance between us, until I can feel the heat radiating off him. His smile is gone now, replaced by something darker, more intense. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low. “I definitely could.”
I swallow hard, feeling the air between us crackle with tension. He’s always entering my personal space, taking the room he wants there.
Now, his gaze flickers to my lips, the way his hand brushes lightly against my arm. I can’t help it, and my tongue darts out to wet my lips, practically begging him to kiss me.
But then, like a reflex, the insecurities I’ve spent years trying to bury bubble up to the surface.
I take a step back, wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
Jack’s brow furrows, his expression softening. “What do you mean?” He doesn’t give me any space at all, and one thing I’ve learned about Jack is how physical he is.
I hesitate, the words sticking in my throat. How do I explain the years of self-doubt, the constant pressure to look a certain way, to be a certain size? How do I tell him that I’ve never felt like I was enough for someone like him—for anyone, really?
“I’m just…I’m not like the other women you’ve been with,” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Jack’s eyes soften, and he shuffles his feet forward, pressing against me now, his hands gentle as they cup my face. “You’re right,” he says, his voice rough but tender. “You’re not like them. You’re better.”
My breath catches in my throat as he leans in, his lips brushing against mine in the softest, sweetest kiss. It’s like the world stops spinning, like everything else fades away, and all that matters is the way his mouth feels on mine.
But then the kiss deepens, and suddenly, it’s not soft or sweet anymore. It’s hungry, desperate, like he’s been waiting for this moment as long as I have. His hands slide down to my waist, pulling me closer, and I melt into him, all my reservations flying out the window.
My fingers tangle in his hair, and I can feel the heat of his body pressing against mine, the hard lines of his muscles beneath his shirt. I’ve never been kissed like this before—like I’m the only thing he needs, like he’s starving for me and only me.
I’m just about ready to let this kiss turn into something more when Jack’s phone buzzes in his pocket, breaking the spell. He pulls back, breathless, and presses his forehead to mine. I’m just trying to breathe without sounding like I’ve been running from zombies.
“I’ll ignore it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine again.
I laugh softly, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “What if it’s important?”
“It’s not,” he says, but his phone buzzes again, and he sighs, reluctantly pulling away to check the screen. He swears and says, “It’s Liam.” His brow furrows as his thumb hovers over his phone. “I have to take it.”
I’m still trying to catch my breath, so I nod as he steps away. “What?” He turns his back on me as he talks to his friend, and I look around the shop like I’ve been transported to another planet.
“I said all right .” Jack paces toward me again. “I’ll see you in two minutes, outside the boutique.” He hangs up and shoves his phone in his back pocket. “I have to go, sweetheart.”
“Okay,” I say as he envelops me in that Jack-Winters-Wonderland scent and holds me against his chest.
“We’ve got practice this afternoon.” He peers down at me, his blue eyes blazing. “I can get you in to the last hour on a special guest pass.” His eyebrows go up, silently asking me if I want that.
“Yeah, okay,” I say. “I’ve never watched a hockey practice before.”
“Coach opens them up at the end,” he says. “In the off-season, at least.”
“At the arena?”
“Yes, baby.” He grins, leans in, and captures my mouth with his again. He kisses me until an insistent horn honks from the direction of the curb. He pulls away then. “Mm.”
He presses his lips together as if tasting me there—and enjoying it—and says, “I’ll be back tomorrow to help with the rest of the show prep.”
I’m so drunk on him, I don’t respond as he strides toward the front door. The little bell chimes, and that somehow wakes me up. I blink and watch him climb in the back of a pitch-black SUV.
“Mm,” I say too, mimicking him. I straighten from the wall where he kissed me so completely, suddenly needing to find the exact right thing to wear to the last hour of a hockey practice.