Wyatt nods and leaves the box. Jake gets into a very technical conversation with Graham about some penalty the Mudbugs just got, and I slide off the couch and move closer to Wes. He’s barely inside our area, sitting on the arm of the couch, with his eyes glued to the ice.
“Hey,” I say.
He gives me a quick glance and says, “Hey.”
“This is a good game!” I say with a tad too much enthusiasm.
He nods. “Yeah, they’re having a good season so far.”
“Well, I’m officially halfway through these dates,” I say for lack of anything else. I’m not sure what he thought when he saw that bracelet, but I want him to know I’m still very much not back with Griffin.
He looks at me, and I can’t read his expression. “I know you’ll be glad when things can get back to normal.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not how I was expecting to spend the break, but I have to admit, things have been better than I thought they would.”
I feel like I’m talking in code. Why can’t I be as direct as he was in the car with Charlie?I’d rather be doing nothing with the three of you than anything with Griffin.
“Yeah, I’m sure by now Griffin realizes he made a stupid mistake.”
Before I can set Wes straight, the Mudbugs make a goal and the entire arena explodes in cheers. Most of the crowd throws small red plastic crawfish out onto the ice, and then these cute kids on skates pick them all up with shovels almost as big as they are.
Wyatt sits down beside me. “Looks like I got back just in time,” he says, nodding toward the ice.
Wes hops up and moves to the couch with Charlie, Jake, and Graham.
“I’m sorry we got invaded like this,” I say. And Iamsorry. This isn’t fair to Wyatt.
He shrugs. “It’s okay. It’s not like we don’t have the room for them.”
Aunt Camille shows up just as the first period is over. “Oh good! This will make things easier,” she says when she spots the crowd in our box.
At this point, I get a little panicky anytime a relative who’s set me up on a date says something I don’t understand. “Makes what easier?”
“Each puppy has a person! So much easier for the parade.”
On the ice, pet owners are lining up with their dogs. “Who Let the Dogs Out?” is playing over the speakers, and the dogs go nuts every time the singer makes that barking noise.
Aunt Camille starts passing around leashes. “Everyone pick a puppy and follow me!”
“What is happening?” Olivia asks.
Graham’s eyes get huge. “Are we really going out on the ice with these dogs?”
“So what if one of them poos out there?” Charlie asks.
Wes laughs. “I guess if it’s yours, you clean it up.”
Aunt Camille leads us to a side door near our box and holds it open while we file out onto the ice. I’ve never walked on ice before and I only make it about two steps before I’m sliding. My arms flail around, trying to find anything to hold on to, but it’s useless. I’m going down.
Seconds before I make a complete fool out of myself, someone grabs me by the waist and pulls me back to my feet. I expect it to be Wyatt, but it’s Wes.
“Shuffle your feet instead of trying to walk,” he says, then lets go of me. But I haven’t caught my balance yet, and I start to fall again.
His hands tighten on my hips, anchoring me to the ice. “If I let go, are you going to fall?” he asks.
My breath catches. “I think I’ve got it now.”
He whispers, “Remember: shuffle, don’t walk,” then he’s gone.
