Silas is waiting by his truck in the parking deck, scowling at his phone. He's in dark jeans and a Havoc quarter-zip that shows off every muscle. His dirty blond hair is loose tonight, falling to his shoulders. Those blue-gray eyes flick up and I legit forget how to breathe for a second. Even scowling, he's unfairly handsome.
When he sees me, his jaw ticks. His eyes drag over my legs. His throat works.
I stop, glancing down at myself. "Do you think this will be okay?"
"You look... nice." His voice comes out rough. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah." I climb into the truck, cheeks warm.
The drive is silent except for the engine and the turnsignal. His scent is stronger here. Sandalwood, cedar, woodsmoke. Whoever makes his cologne deserves a Nobel Prize. I pretend I don't notice his white knuckles on the steering wheel or the way my heart hammers just from sitting next to him.
I'm a mess around this man.
The rink is trying way too hard when we arrive. There are banners everywhere, sponsor logos on every surface, and folding tables loaded with hot cocoa. There are even crafts for kids who'd rather be making snowflakes than skating.
I smooth my dress, suddenly feeling overdressed compared to all the staff polos. I might've overthought this.
At the entrance, I spot Enzo lurking near the boards in his usual sharp suit and smug smile. My stomach drops. Without a word, Silas drapes an arm around my shoulders. His hand curls over my arm like he's claiming me. He shoots Enzo a territorial glare.
Thank god. Silas doesn't know I told Enzo we were together, so now I don't have to awkwardly engineer this moment.
Not the best feeling in the world, but I've known worse.
"Stick close to me." Silas watches Enzo like he's plotting murder. "Fuck your ex."
I raise my eyebrows. "Enzo's going to think we're together."
No need to fill in the part where Enzo thinks that because I told him so.
Silas shrugs, voice low and rough. "So what? Like I said, fuck him."
My heart kicks hard against my ribs, pulse stumbling over itself. Silas usually moves through the world like the darkest thundercloud, all tension and thunder building behind his eyes. Tonight, that same storm has stepped in front of me,bracing itself between me and the man who once made me feel small. Relief's so sharp it's almost dizzying.
Dismissing Enzo, Silas keeps his arm around me and walks me down to the benches where kids are already skating clumsy circles on the ice. I grab rental skates and lace them up quickly. Years of being married to a hockey player means I learned to skate well enough. Enzo dragged me to enough team events that I had to get comfortable on the ice.
When I step onto the rink, muscle memory takes over. I'm not doing any fancy footwork but I can glide smoothly enough to help wrangle the kids.
Silas watches me from the boards, something unreadable crossing his face. Surprise, maybe. Or appreciation. His eyes track my movements as I skate backward to demonstrate proper form for a group of giggling kids.
Jessa glides up next to me, cheeks pink from the cold. "Look at you go. I didn't know you could skate like that."
"Enzo made sure I learned." I shrug, helping a little boy in a blue helmet find his balance. "He hated showing up to events with a wife who couldn't stay upright on the ice."
"Of course he did." Jessa rolls her eyes. "Well, at least you got something useful out of that disaster of a marriage."
I laugh despite myself and we split up to help different groups of kids. I spend the next hour teaching basic stops and starts, catching wobbly beginners before they face-plant, and racing a few of the more confident kids around the rink. It's fun. Easy. One of the few things I can do without second-guessing myself.
When I circle back toward the boards, Silas is still there, arms crossed, watching. His expression's softer than usual. Almost... impressed?
"You're good at this," he says when I skate up to him.
"Thanks." I'm breathless, cheeks flushed from exertion and cold. "I had a lot of practice."
His jaw tightens at the mention of Enzo, but he doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at me like he's seeing something new. Something he hadn't noticed before.
Hunter appears at Silas's elbow, grinning. "You gonna get out there and help, Ice Man? Or just stand around looking pretty?"
Silas growls something under his breath, but he grabs skates and laces them up. When he steps onto the ice, he's all power and grace. Completely different from the careful, measured way he moves off the ice with his injured shoulder. Out here, he's in his element.
