I don’t move either.
Something about the exact heat of her through that dress is going to be a problem for me for a long time.
I keep my hand where it is and guide her out.
Neither of us says a word.
We get to the car.
I sit down, grip the wheel for a second, then start the engine.
City lights slide past.
The silence between us builds.
She breaks it.
“You knew who I was at the grocery store.”
Not a question.
“No.”
She turns toward me. “No?”
“No clue who you were. Not till the rink.”
She studies me for a second.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
I glance at her. Back to the road.
“Didn’t seem like the time.”
That lands.
The city keeps moving.
“When did you figure it out?” I ask.
“Roster.”
“After the first practice?”
“After the first practice.”
I nod.
“You let me keep talking,” she says.
“You were saying interesting things.”
“That is still the most infuriating answer you could give me.”
“Probably.”
She exhales. Half laugh, half something else.
