Right. Public place. Oops.
"Sorry, Danica," I say, even though I’m exactly zero percent sorry. "He's just too pretty to resist."
Zach's fingers dig into my hips. "Tell me about this epiphany."
"I want to help people. Through aerial arts. Like therapy, but with less couch time and more spinning in circles." I bite my lip, suddenly nervous. "Is that stupid?"
"No." His voice is firm, confident. "It's perfect for you."
“And that’s why I love you.”
His Adam's apple bobs, that muscle in his jaw twitching. I've learned most of his tells, the tiny signs that scream 'emotional overload' in Zach-speak.
Last week, he got angry one day when he told me he loved me. He questioned his feelings. So, we’ve been working on talking it out.
"What's going on in that beautiful, complicated brain?"
His thumbs trace circles on my hip bones as he searches for words. "My heart’s beating faster, and my palms are a bit sweaty. Couldn’t stop thinking about you on the drive over here." His voice stays flat, but the words . . . fuck, the words are everything. "When you cry, I want to destroy whatever hurt you. When you laugh. . . everything feels lighter. And when others touch you, I want to break their fucking fingers."
I can’t help but laugh. "That's oddly romantic and terrifying at the same time."
"Is it?" His brow furrows again. "I don't always know if what I'm feeling is . . . right. If it's what other people feel when they love someone."
I stand on my tiptoes, then press my forehead against his. "That's exactly what love is. The need to protect. To possess. To cherish." My fingers trail down his chest. "You show me every day. The way you chase away my nightmares. How you bring me strawberry milkshakes when I'm sad. Finding this place because you knew how much I needed to fly again."
His shoulders relax a bit. "You make the noise in my head quiet."
"And you make me brave enough to want things." I kiss him tenderly. "Think I'm gonna take some psych classes next semester. Really do this right."
"Bet you’ll even make Dean’s List."
I gasp dramatically, clutching my chest. "Holy shit, was that actual praise from Mr. Stoic? Quick, someone check if hell froze over."
He rolls his eyes, but I catch that tiny smile—the real one, just for me.
"Come on." I grab my bag from the corner and head for the door. "Time to go home. I need a shower and you need to help me with those hard-to-reach places."
He shakes his head, placing a hand on the small of my back.
At the door, I pause for one last look at the silks dancing in the air-conditioned breeze. Five years ago, I ran because I thought I was too broken to ever be whole. Now I can't help but feel like everything is finally falling into place.
I've got Zach, who loves me in his own unique way. I've got a direction for my life that feels right.
And most importantly?
I've got hope.
Who knew running away would eventually lead me right where I needed to be? It turns out that sometimes you have to fall before the universe catches you in just the right way.
Chapter 30
Zach
The Xcel Energy Center buzzes with pre-game energy, the hum of the crowd a tangible force even during warmups. My skates bite into the fresh ice as I take another lap, every muscle loose and ready. The energy tonight is different, more electric.
Because we're not just playing for the championship.
We're defending it.
