“Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“No, it’s fine. I just—”
Air whooshes out of my lungs and I hug him. Full-body hug him. My arms lock around his neck, pulling his somewhat resistant body to mine. It takes him a moment to respond, but when his arms encircle my back, it’s the safest I’ve felt since before Jason went away.
The hug goes on too long, long enough for it to transition from a gesture of relief to one where I’m much too aware of his heart beating in tempo with mine and the hard muscles of his chest pressed against me. I loosen my grip and move away, and his arms slide around the small of my back until I physically step out of reach. Even then they linger for half a second before he lowers them to his sides.
“It didn’t rain,” I say, holding his gaze and thinking for the first time that Heath’s eyes look like the blades of my skates before I sharpen them, a soft and muted silver. “I thought something must be wrong.”
“I should have realized. Nothing is wrong.” Heath drops his head and says something harsh under his breath, before lifting it a second later. “I just—I wanted to see you.”
My heart twists a bit at that admission, and from the suddenly pained expression on Heath’s face, I know he felt it too.
“I’m sorry about showing up at the rink. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay.”
He nods, and then his brows draw together. “Your friend, she really doesn’t know?”
I shake my head, walking past him to sit on a branch. “She moved here at the beginning of summer.”
“And nobody has said anything to her?”
“I don’t think people go around talking about it randomly anymore.” And I make sure she stays away from anyone who might.
Heath joins me on the branch, so that we’re sitting side by side, closer than either of us have dared before. “Why haven’t you told her?”
I glance at him. “Would you?”
He gives the question serious thought before answering. “No, I guess not.”
“She’s my best friend. Really she’s my only friend.” I look down at my crossed ankles swinging slightly above the grass. “I don’t know that she’d still be the same with me if she knew.” I give my head a hard shake, trying to dislodge the unpleasant thought. “Anyway, for now she doesn’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.”
“And I just made that a lot harder for you.”
“No,” I say, extending my hand on the branch between us when he frowns. “She knows your first name but nothing else. She thinks—” I blush but I don’t let myself look away “—she thinks I was keeping you a secret because I like you, not because of our brothers. I tried to explain it’s not like that,” I add quickly when his jaw locks. “Eventually she’ll see that’s all there is.” I hope.
His eyes flick to my hand on the branch when I draw it back to my lap. After a minute he nods. “So the ice-skating audition thing. I thought you weren’t doing it.”
I sigh at the shift between one uncomfortable topic to another. At least this one doesn’t involve Heath and me.
“I have to—film it anyway. I don’t have to submit it, and even then there’s no guarantee that I’d get the letter in the mail inviting me to audition in person or that I’d have to accept a job offer if they made one.” Even as I say this though, the idea of getting picked, of skating with a professional team has my heart nearly bursting in my chest. It swells warm and bright inside me for a minute before I let reality smother it.
“I still have a few things to figure out.” When Heath keeps looking at me expectantly, I explain about securing rink time, figuring out choreography and, at Maggie’s insistence, finding someone to work on lifts and partnering with. “Lifts aren’t required, but showing even basic partnering work is a plus. I have a friend in Houston who should be able come for the actual audition if I ask him, but just for the day. I still need someone to practice with, and that’s a big ask for Telford.”
“Another skater?”
“Well, yeah, I mean—” I cut off, looking at Heath, remembering the strength in his arms when he hugged me. “Can you—Yeah, just stand up for a second.” I hop down from the branch and he follows.
“I’ve never set foot on an ice rink.”
“You don’t have to.” I position myself right in front of him and brace my hands on his forearms. “Can you lift me?”
“What, like—” his hands settle high on my rib cage and a breath later my feet are off the ground. My hands slide up to his shoulders as he raises me high above his head “—this?”
“Yeah,” I say, a little breathless. “That’s good. You can put me down now.”
We both laugh a little, and there’s so much uncertainty in that sound.
