“I had a good time, Darius. Even if I’m pretty sure I’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“That’s the price of learning,” I say, nudging him with my shoulder. “But hey, you did great. You’ll be an expert in no time.”
“Yeah, right.” He laughs.
And in this moment, with the snow gently falling around us and the rink quiet except for our laughter, I know in my heart, this is one of those nights that’s gonna stick with me for a while.
The engine'shum fills the silence between us. Streetlights blur past as I drive, the steady rhythm of the tires on the road almost too soothing, like it’s trying to lull me into forgetting what’s on my mind. Harry’s sitting right next to me, quiet for once, his eyes focused outside. I keep stealing glances at him, wondering if he feels the same tension that’s been building since we left the rink.
God, I keep thinking about last weekend—how close we were, the way he looked at me just before we pulled away. It’s like that moment is still alive between us, in the way he’s sitting next to me now, his hand close enough for me to touch.
We’re almost at his place, and I lick my lips to moisten my dry mouth with little success. I grab for the mints in the center console, and the rattling in the plastic container pulls Harry’s focus.
“Mint?”
He raises his eyebrows, and fuck, I wasn’t trying to be presumptuous.
“Sure.” He holds his hand out, and I shake three into his palm.
After popping a few in my mouth, the coolness helping me produce some saliva, my mind races as we approach his apartment. What if he invites me up? It’s late, and we have school tomorrow, but maybe . . . between dinner and skating, the way I caught him and he held my hand . . . maybe he wants to keep the night going, right? I can’t shake the thought, the way his hand rests casually on the seat, just inches away from mine. Maybe we could talk some more. Maybe he’d want me to stay over.
Or maybe I’m overthinking it.
I glance at him, and he catches my eye, giving me that half smile that’s so damn distracting. He leans back in the seat, stretching out a little, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same things.
“Hey,” I say, voice a little rougher than I mean. “I had a lot of fun. It was a good night, don’t you think?”
He nods, his lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah. It really was.”
The words feel loaded, like something unspoken hangs between us, something too delicate to name. I shiftmy gaze back to the road, focusing on the lights ahead, my mind still reeling.
I pull up to his place, the soft glow of his building lighting up the curb, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Harry unbuckles his seatbelt slowly, his hand hovering for just a second over the door handle. The weight of the moment looms over me, and Maynor’s voice echoes in my head: keep showing up.
He looks over at me again, and this time, his smile’s a little softer.
“I . . . I should probably head in,” he says, his voice quieter now. “It’s late.”
I nod, trying to keep my cool, though my mind’s racing. “Sure. We both have to get up early tomorrow.”
“Yes, but it’s not that.”
There’s a fluttering in my stomach, hoping I haven’t messed up . . . again.
“Tonight was really . . . special, you know?” He takes my hand, removes my glove, and laces his fingers with mine.
My damn heart nearly leaps out of my chest.
“And even though . . .”
“Rhode Island,” I say.
“Exactly. Let’s just enjoy the night for what it was.”
“And what’s that, Harry?”
“A wonderful first date.”
