She hesitates. A flicker of something crosses her face before she schools it back into indifference. Her hazel eyes meet mine, fierce and determined.
“I tried to skate a few days ago,” she says finally. “I got here, put on my skates…” A deep inhale. “And I couldn’t step onto the ice.”
She looks pissed just saying it, like the words physically hurt. A girl like her has had the wordfailureremoved from her vocabulary since birth.
I wait, silent and expectant. There’s no judgment from me.
She exhales sharply.
“For some fucking reason, McKnight,” she grits out, reluctant as hell, “I skate better when you’re here.”
Triumphantisn’t a strong enough word for what I feel.
I can’t stop my grin. She looks murderous, and my dick twitches. I give a mentaldown boyto my lower appendage. I am developing a serious problem. A redhead with an attitude problem. A capital-M Monroe Problem.
“How’d you get my number?”
She looks away, embarrassed.
“Mm,” she says, avoiding me on the ice. I raise my eyebrows. “I grabbed it from my dad’s roster in his office.”
I bark a laugh at her. “You stole my number, Abrams?” She scowls at me. “Nobody’s ever wanted my number so badly that they resorted to theft before.”
“Shut up,” she mutters.
“The invitation to skate in the mornings is still open,” I say. “We don’t have to come here like spies under the cover of darkness.”
Her mouth pinches into a thin line, and she shakes her head.
“I like it better at night,” she slowly admits. “I don’t really want to risk running into the Nationals team. Or Elsie. Or anyone else.”
I skid to a stop and grab her arm, stopping her with me. I level her with a stare. “Who else knows you’re skating again?”
Because if it’s just me…if I’m the only one she’s trusted with this…
“Just you.”
She looks up, meeting my eyes. We’re close. Closer than we should be. Close enough that I can see every fleck of green and gold in her eyes. It means something if I’m the only one she’s let in on the secret. It’s suddenly very important to me that I don’t screw up whatever tenuous trust she’s put in me.
For a second, she’s unguarded. There is a palpable vulnerability. The spell is broken when she shoves me right in the chest.
“So don’t fucking tell anyone.”
I chuckle harshly, and drag my hand down my face. “They’ll know once you start teaching the clinic that you’re skating again,” I remind her. “I’m sure Elsie already knows, since she’s the one who put you up to it.”
“Yeah, I know,” she mutters. “But…it’s just for me right now.”
And me, I think.It’s for me, too.
“Okay, Abrams,” I say loudly, grabbing her attention. “Do one of your fancy tricks.”
“Hell, no,” she retorts, reeling back.
“Come on,” I taunt. “You’re gonna have to try it at some point. We can’t skate in a circle forever. Do one of your—” I try to think of any of the figure-skating terms. Nothing comes to my brain. “Toe loop spins.” I make a mental note to learn more figure-skating terms.
She snorts. “Atoe loop spin? You know that’s not a trick, right?”
I roll my eyes, feigning indifference. “Whatever. The jump you do with your toe thing.”