That’s it. No drama. No explanation. Just restlessness. I understand restlessness all too well.
I nod once. “Same.”
His gaze flicks to me, and something softens like he didn’t expect the word to fit both of us.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Same.”
We keep skating without talking, just sharing space, and it’s strange how my body doesn’t tense like it does with most people. Strange how silence with him doesn’t feel like a test. It feels comfortable.
Weston rockets past us, screaming, “RACE TIME!”
Asher’s voice follows, flat. “Weston.”
Weston ignores him and keeps going.
Grayson’s mouth twitches. “Told you.”
I snort before I can stop myself.
Grayson’s gaze flicks to me, amused. “That was a laugh.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I mutter.
“It was,” he says, tone light. “I made you laugh.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t go taking credit for Weston’s comedy act.”
Grayson laughs softly, the sound filling my lungs in a way I can’t explain, but I feel it clear to my toes. He lifts a hand slightly, smiling. “I won’t.”
He has a really, really good grin. The faintest sign of a dimple popping just on the left side, his eyes lighting up in a mesmerizing shade of blue that I don’t get to see often. It makes my chest feel weird again.
The session winds down, and we skate off toward the benches. My legs are pleasantly tired, and my chest feels lighter, my mind quieter.
Kai meets me at the rink exit, like he’s been waiting for permission to worry out loud.
“You okay?” he asks immediately.
I nod. “I’m okay.”
Kai’s gaze flicks over my face like he’s scanning for cracks. “You sure?”
I clench my jaw. “Kai.”
He exhales. “Sorry.”
Weston bounces over, grinning. “She was great.”
Kai’s eyes narrow. “Weston?—”
Weston lifts his hands. “I didn’t push. I did great.”
Asher appears behind them. “He did.”
Kai looks mildly surprised, which is satisfying.
Grayson is there too, a little behind, hood up, hands in his pockets. He catches my gaze for half a second, then looks away. Not a rejection, but a choice, like he’s giving me control over whether this becomes a thing. It shouldn’t matter as much as it does.
Tyler never gave me choices. It was his way or no way. He never respected me enough to even ask or care about what I wanted.
