“Look up, Laura. Look at me.”
The second I do, our eyes lock, and everything steadies. My posture fixes, my skates feel more secure, and I push forward.
Then again.
Scotty’s smile grows with every inch I manage, and by the time I reach him, I’m laughing.
“I did it.”
I don’t know why I do it—maybe it’s adrenaline, or relief—but I step forward and wrap my arms around him.
“You did,” he murmurs into my hair. “You're going to nail this audition. You're so freaking good!”
His arms tighten around me, and that’s when I realize how much I like it. Too much, and judging by the way he holds on for one extra heartbeat, he feels it too.
“Laura,” he whispers.
I don't answer. I can’t, because I know exactly what he’s asking without forming a single question. His eyes flick from my lips to my eyes, hungry and careful.
If I let him, he'd kiss me right now.
And…I wouldn't stop him.
He leans in an inch.
I take in a breath.
Another inch.
I stay still.
I can feel his breath fanning across my lips.
Still not moving.
When his lips are almost grazing mine, he stops.
Waiting.
Inviting.
Letting me choose.
My breath hitches, my fingers curl into his jacket, and just as I’m about to close that tiny, impossible space between us—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I jerk backward, worried we’ve been caught. By who? I don't know since we're at a rink 45 minutes away.
Scotty chuckles. “Relax, Princess. It's the Zamboni.”
He reaches out like he’s ready to steady me again, but I don’t take his hand. I don’t need it. I can
stand on my own…thanks to him.
“Yeah, I knew that,” I say lightly, pretending my heart isn’t pounding out of my chest. “Good thing he broke up that little moment.” I point between us. Scotty smirks. “You were two seconds away from writing me a fan letter.”
He laughs, loud and full, and it makes all those barriers I put up crack a little. Something that can’t happen. “Maybe I already did.”
