The cheer that erupts is instant.
Daisy whoops. Knox grabs Cheese and lifts her off the floor in a spinning bear hug. Twinkle does a ballerina spin. I roll in a loose, looping circle, helmet askew, arms slightly out, letting the moment settle in.
Nationals.
It’s real.
The energy pulses between us, electric and wild. But underneath it, I’m still unsteady. Because Graham’s waiting for me.
And Landon’s watching.
And my heart? It’s still a mess I haven’t figured out how to clean up.
The second I step off the rink, my pulse finally slows, but the noise in my head doesn’t.
Everyone’s laughing, celebrating, buzzing about Nationals, but it’s too much. Too loud. Too bright. I mumble something about needing water and duck into the hallway beside the locker rooms, ripping my helmet off as I go.
The second the door swings shut behind me, silence crashes over me.
Finally.
I lean against the wall, head pressing against the cool wall, closing my eyes for just a second, trying to breathe past the ache in my chest. My muscles hum from practice, but it’s theemotional kind of exhaustion creeping in now—the kind that starts behind your ribs and wraps around your throat.
You're still in there…inside my heart.
I never should’ve said it. Footsteps echo behind me. I freeze. Then inhale.
Clean linen and cedar.
I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him.
“Thought you’d disappear,” Landon says quietly.
I open my eyes, still facing the wall. “I’m not that lucky.”
He huffs out a soft, breathy sound that’s almost a laugh. “You were incredible out there.”
“I usually am.”
A pause. Then he steps closer. I feel his warmth behind me, not touching—but close enough to knock my balance loose.
I don’t move.
“I wanted to give you something,” he says.
That makes me turn.
He’s standing just feet away, hands shoved in the front pocket of his jeans like he doesn’t know what to do with them. His gaze is soft again—so damn soft—as though I’m something he’s afraid to touch but can’t stop reaching for.
He pulls out a small object and holds it out to me.
It’s a delicate roller skate charm—brushed silver, tiny pink rhinestones on the wheels, and a thin leather loop tied in a knot at the top.
“I had it made a couple weeks ago. Before I knew if you’d ever speak to me again,” he says. “It reminded me of you. Thought you might hate it. Still kinda do.”
My throat tightens.
I take it.
