I smile as I watch them skate off the ice.
I’m not going to let you down, Princess. Not this time.
Chapter 19
Scotty waves at me as he skates past, but I don’t wave back. Instead, I give him the smallest chin tip. He’s already on the ice, busy teaching a little kid. It’s just the two of them on the ice, but I can’t stop scanning the rink for any of his teammates. Deep down, I’m terrified that someone is going to find out we’re together and rumors will start.
Wait, we aren’ttogether.Never really were, but the sentiment is the same. I don’t want anyone knowing I’m accepting help from the guy who slapped me with his hoagie dick.
I lift my foot up to the bench in front and start to tie my laces.
How did Noelle do this again?
Crisscross? Bunny ears? I don’t remember. Doesn’t matter if I get it right, though. My hands are shaking so badly, they'll still be tied awfully.
When the laces are finally acceptable, I lean back on the bench and lift my gaze to the rink. Of course my eyes immediately land on Scotty. He’s crouched beside the little boy he’s been coaching, saying something that makes the kid grin before guiding him off the ice.
He gives the kid a high-five, then spends a few minutes talking with his parent. I can’t deny he’s good at this—patient, encouraging, annoyingly competent. But that doesn’t mean I’m convinced he should be teaching me.
Although, like Noelle said before she left, it’s not like I have a choice. Idoneed help, and he’s the only person with the skill—and the actual desire—to give it.
I just wish my stomach didn’t flip every time he looks over and smiles at me.
Which he’s doing right now.
Fantastic.
The worst part is it’s not just my stomach betraying me—it’s my heart. The beats kick up the closer he gets, and my fingers itch with this stupid urge to reach for him. I mentally slap myself for even thinking it.
Scotty and his friendshumiliatedme. I know he’s trying to apologize with all this effort, but it doesn’t change the fact that when I get too close to him, I get burned. Badly. Embarrassingly.
“Hey, Laure,” he calls.
Laure. That’s what Noelle calls me. Why does it sound so good when it’s coming out of his mouth?
“Are you ready to come on the ice?” he asks, his voice warm with one arm braced against the boards.
“I guess,” I say, forcing any kind of confidence into my voice. “I suppose so,” I say, masking my nervousness with pride. The same thing I always do.
The moment I try to take a step, my ankles buckle. I catch myself on the boards, pretending it was nothing. Admitting I’m struggling would feel…weak. Especially in front of him.
He doesn’t buy it. The moment he pushes through the door, I can tell he’s already seen through me.
“Before I forget, I've got something for you.” He rummages through his bag sitting just at the side and pulls out a pair of white figure skates. Brand new and pristine, I stare at them in disbelief.
“They're for you.”
“M-me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would you buy me skates? They're so expensive.”
The guilt is immediate. This is only the second time we’ve seen each other in a year, and he’s already showing up with gifts… smiling at me with that soft, dimpled smile that makes it impossible to think straight.
“I didn't buy them. I went home over the weekend and asked my sister if I could borrow hers. My mom tried to force Amelia into figure skating for years—she even made us compete in a couple of competitions together.” He winces. “Thank God Amelia hated it. Otherwise we might’ve ended up as one of those brother-sister ice skating duos.”
“Would’ve been great drama for the show,” I tease.
