That was who she was.
When the whistle finally blew, ending the bout, the women circled up, laughing and breathing hard. Mel skated to the center again, hands on her hips.
“Alright,” she called. “That’s it for tonight.”
Eleanor made her way back to me, sweaty and flushed, moving just a little slower now. Her helmet was off, hair plastered to her temples, and she looked wrecked in the most beautiful way.
She smiled at me, soft and tired. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I said, already scanning her for injuries.
She shifted her weight, wincing just a bit. “So . . . can we postpone our date?”
My mouth fell open. “What?”
She laughed and immediately amended, “Not cancel. Just—maybe not tonight?”
Every instinct in me screamednope. I did not want less time with her. I wanted more. All of it.
Then she reached back and rubbed her ass with a grimace. “But maybe I could shower at your place and not go anywhere? And do you have ibuprofen?”
I grinned.
“Oh,” I said, standing up and taking her bag from her shoulder. “I’ve got ibuprofen. And ice packs. And a couch you can fall asleep on if you want.”
She smiled back at me, relief written all over her face.
I slung her bag over my shoulder and steered us toward the door. “Come on. I’ve got you.”
Tonight wasn’t about taking her out. It was about taking care of her.
As I took her bag and walked her to the car, I kept thinking that I didn’t want to cancel tonight. There was no reason I couldn’t bring the date to the house. Going on a ‘date’ could mean lots of different things.
I opened the door and helped her ease into the car. I cringed for her as she tenderly sat down.
“I’ll get used to this, right?” she asked as she winced.
“You were spectacular,” I said, dropping a quick kiss on her mouth before shutting the door and heading over to my side of the car. My mind was already going a mile a minute, figuring out how to change everything around so tonight could be just as special from the quiet of my couch.
I could do it.
38
ELEANOR
By the time we reached Alex’s car, every part of me was making its opinion known. My hip throbbed. My thigh felt like it had been kissed by a truck. My shoulders were tight from bracing against hits. I walked anyway, head high, because yeah—I hurt, but I’d also done it. I’d survived. I’d skated. I’d gotten back up.
The drive to his place was quiet in that good, humming way. My body buzzed with adrenaline even as it sank into exhaustion. When we pulled into his driveway, he was out of the car before I’d even unbuckled, opening my door like I was precious cargo.
Inside, he handed me a towel and pointed me toward the bathroom. “Shower. I’ll get everything else.”
Everything else turned out to be a very serious phrase.
In the bathroom, I peeled off my clothes and stared at myself in the mirror. Sweat-streaked, hair wild, eyes bright. On my thigh, a bruise was already blooming that was purple and blue, and undeniable.
I touched it gently.
I had never been proud of a bruise before.
