I gave him my keys, and he settled me in the passenger seat before getting in beside me. Closing my eyes, I rested my head on the seat and tried to come back to the here and now. Reaching blindly, I groped for his hand and smiled when he covered mine with his. I needed the security he provided.
When we got there, he unlocked my apartment door, kissing my forehead in a gesture that no longer made me panic. Insteadof feeling like I’d ruined this thing between us, I felt that we’d surmounted a hurdle. We’d come closer to something special.
With a shaky breath, I said, “Thank you.”
“I can see how hard it is for you to ask for help.”
Raising my brows, I said, “You too.”
With a small smile, he went on. “So thank you for letting me help.”
“Well, then, thank you for realizing I needed it.”
He hugged me close again, and I nestled into him. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay.”
When he did, it was to invite me ice skating. It seemed harmless enough, but I had never tried it, unless it was buried in pre-ten-year-old-me memories.
“You’ve never gone ice skating?” Noah asked incredulously.
“Nope. I guess it wasn't high on the priority list for my foster parents.”
He picked me up again, and I found I enjoyed riding beside him when he drove. His profile was too pretty not to stare at, even when his mouth curved up and he looked over.
“See something you like?” he teased.
“Most definitely.”
But all banter went out the window when I had to try standing on the skates he’d helped me lace up. Noah stood gracefully in front of me, while I stumbled like a newborn giraffe unused to the length of its legs. He had to hold onto me as we hobbled over to the ice, and then I grabbed onto the wall for dear life.
“I thought I had more coordination than this.” With envy, I watched young children floating across the ice as though they had spent their whole lives on it. On the other hand, I couldn't even stand upright without clutching Noah’s arms.
“Maybe this isn't your thing,” he suggested gently when I staggered like a drunkard and nearly fell.
For some reason, the patience I recently admired was pissing me off. “No, that’s not possible. I’m not a child, for God’s sake.”
“Here.” Stepping back a little, he held both my hands in his, skating backward so I could glide forward. I had to lean toward him to keep my balance, but my feet seemed to want to go in separate directions. When I did a poor imitation of the splits, my thighs burned, and I lost his grip.
“This is stupid!”
But my outburst was my undoing, and I fell face-first. Noah tried to grapple with me, but I was down and out before he could. Humiliation poured over me as some nearby kids laughed. My nose hurt, my knees were probably skinned, and Noah was there to witness my ignominy.
He leaned over, shielding me from the mean kids, and then picked me up as though I weighed nothing, wrapping my legs around his waist as he skated toward the exit. He set me on a bench and leaned over me again, running his hands up and down my legs to make sure nothing was broken.
“I’m sorry, this was a dumb idea. Let’s get something warm to drink and forget we tried it.”
Staring at his bent head as he examined me, I felt my mouth go dry.
“Did you hear what I said?”
He straightened, and I had to swallow hard at the sight of his gorgeous face so close to mine.
“Sailor? You didn't hit your head, did you?”
I had to stop him before he checked me for a concussion. “Take me home.”
“Yeah, okay. Again, I’m sorry.”
