He shrugs, “Maybe I like watching you lead.”
I roll my eyes. “Right.”
I push off harder, spinning once then again, letting physics carry me before slowing. When I face him again, he’s closer and my breath catches.
“Sometimes it kills me thinking we could’ve already had a home, babies and Sunday dinners if I’d been smart enough to chase you sooner.”
The words hit deeper than anything he’s ever said because it means he really does love me. They’re not mere words. He loves me. His hand finds mine before I can sink into mythoughts.
Warm.
Gentle.
Strong.
Something shifts and the air changes. The distance between us disappears. His hand slides to my waist, slow and deliberate, like he's giving me time to stop him.
But I don’t want to. I want to change my memories of the ice to something loving and good.
My hands grip his shirt as I tilt my head up.
“This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had,” I murmur.
His lips hook into a knowing smile. “Is this your first session?” he asks.
Somehow I answer with a scratchy voice. “Yes. I never…”
“Promise me you’ll tell me when you need me to carry the load?”
That’s all it takes. I don't wait for him. I grab his face, pulling him to mine. And when our lips meet, it's slow and testing, like we’re both checking that this isn’t some simulation. Making sure it's real.
The kiss isn’t rushed or frantic. It’s intentional.
His hand slides along my back as my fingers curl into his shirt. The chill in the air is replaced by the warmth building between us.
There’s no lingering uncertainty.
Not anymore.
Not after everything.
He breaks the kiss long enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath hot against my lips.
“I need to hear you say it,” he murmurs.
“I promise. And the same goes for you.” Because I’m notrunning from him or the trial. Not from the new beginning we’ve created.
His thumb brushes along my jaw, slow and careful, like he’s memorizing the feel of me.
“Good,” he says, as he kisses my jaw and then down the column of my neck.
Our lips overlap in gentle pecks and the ice holds us in place while everything else shifts. His large hands tighten around me, splaying across my back, lifting me just enough that I instinctively wrap my legs around his back, locking my blades into each other. He balances us while he skates with long strides, without breaking the kiss.
A quiet laugh escapes my mouth. “Show-off,” I whisper.
“You love it,” he mumbles back.
More than I ever expected or planned.
