Number 97. Hendricks on the back.
Scotty glides across the ice, making it look so easy. He takes a few warmup shots, and even from here, tucked halfway behind the assistant, I can see the focus on his face, and the way everyone is shouting his name. The ice has always been his domain, not mine.
As if sensing my gaze, he looks toward the tunnel.
He finds me.
He grins that stupidly devastating dimpled smile, and before I can brace myself, he lifts his gloved fingers to his mouth and blows me a kiss.
Despite my nerves, I smile.
I can do this. For him. For me.
The staff member speaks into his headset, then looks at me. “Sixty seconds.”
Oh God.
I close my eyes and try to remember what Scotty told me during our late-night skating sessions. Your voice is incredible. All you have to do is let people hear it.
The warmup ends and both teams clear the ice. The lights dim slightly as the announcer's voice booms through the speakers.
“Please rise for the national anthem. Performing tonight is sophomore student, Laura Conners.”
I blow out a breath.
This is it.
The second my heel hits the red carpet on the ice, my stomach lurches. My heels wobble, and my breath catches.
I don’t think I can do this.
“Easy, Princess,” Scotty says, already by my side and steadying me. “This isn’t the Cliff of Insanity. No falling allowed.”
A shaky laugh slips out of me, but he smiles, more excited than me.
He guides me out to center ice, moving slowly, matching my shaky steps with practiced ease until we reach the microphone.
A shaky laugh slips out of me, more breath than sound, but he smiles, more excited than me.
His gloved hand settles at the small of my back, guiding me forward as he skates beside me. The rink feels enormous, but his presence grounds me.
We reach the center ice and the microphone. My stomach tightens, knowing he’s about to leave me.
“Look at me,” he whispers.
I do.
“Good luck, Princess,” he breathes. “I love you.”
He smiles and skates back to the blue line to join his teammates.
My breath hitches. Everything inside me stops and then races all at once.
My eyes sting and my heart is pounding, but not from fear this time.
It’s from him.
The lights dim, and I step toward the microphone.
