Page 80 of Unleashing Chaos

“Perhaps.” He steps onto the ice with the grace of a ballet dancer, and I realize he wasn’t overexaggerating about his skill as he executes some fancy jump and spin combo before beckoning for me to join him.

I clutch the railing and say, “You don’t understand. I don’t think I’m even going to be able to go a couple of feet without landing on my ass, and you’re over here doing some freaking world champion moves!”

“I’ve seen you walk in some killer heels, you’ve got this.”

I wobble across the ice to him with the grace of a baby giraffe on ice skates. He hooks my arm in his and I grip his sleeve as we inch forward. Actors make this look so easy in the movies. How humans don’t suffer more tragic ice-skating deaths is beyond me.

“Stop overthinking it and relax. This is a peaceful sport. Look at this beautiful scenery and let yourself glide,” he says, urging me to make bigger movements with my feet.

I let out a breath and relax my shoulders, mirroring him so that my feet aren’t making tiny steps but longer strides, and it does feel more natural. “Okay, okay, I got this.”

“See? Just keep it up, breathe in and out, don’t panic, and if you go down, don’t worry—I’ll be here to help you up.”

I try not to let that statement get me choked up, because he’s only talking about skating. He doesn’t even know what I brought him here to talk about, and I am so afraid that this favor might be the one that makes him say, Okay, that’s enough. You’ve asked too much this time.

“Are you ready to take a little more risk and speed up?” he asks.

“I think so,” I say hesitantly, but he doesn’t give me time to reconsider before we’re only holding hands as we pick up the pace. I yelp as we round a corner and I’m certain I’m going to bust my ass, but when I stay upright, he looks at me with an approving grin.

“I told you you could do it, Desi,” Cannon says as we come up on the next corner. “Let’s try again, just lean into the turn and—”

But I guess I lean in too far because the next thing I know, I’m on my ass on the ice.

And not only is it really cold, it’s harder than a damn slab of concrete. “Ow!” I exclaim, staring up at him, my bottom lip protruding in a pout.

“Mistakes happen.” He pulls me up and doesn’t give me time to think about my throbbing backside. We’re off again. He turns and skates backward, and, like the little kids around us, I use his hands as support. “You should have seen me as a kid. I would fall all the time, and my mom would help me up and tell me to work through it. The sooner I learned how to stay on my feet, the quicker I could get to the reward.”

“Reward?” I say, my ears perking up. “What’s the reward?” I hold his hands tight and glide along the ice, feeling a little more confident when I’m able to look at him as we skate.

He tilts his head to the sky, which is now black with millions of twinkling stars. “For you, it’s that you’re ice skating during one of the most spectacular autumn nights I’ve ever seen.”

I look up and take a second to appreciate it. Ever since we’d put on the skates I’d been so worried about falling that I’d hardly taken a second look. It really is beautiful, with the dark sky blanketed with fluffy clouds and sprinkled with a smattering of stars.

“I’ve always liked when everything around me just goes quiet. Nothing but the sound of skates on ice. It’s simple—peaceful. Also, it’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to feeling like I’m flying,” he adds, his voice quiet and pensive.

For someone who lives such a fast-paced life, I’m surprised to hear that he likes when things slow down. I’ve always pictured Cannon as a ball of energy who thrives on the madness. Shoes thrown around and dirty dishes left abandoned; he’s a mess. Yet on the inside, he wants calm.

And calm is exactly what I need. It’s what I came here to find. So why am I not trying harder to make this work? I like Cannon. I like hanging out with him. We can talk about anything and nothing at all. Were there fireworks when we kissed? No, but when he’s around I have a feeling of warmth and safety. He makes me feel safe. I may not be in love with Cannon, but I love his friendship. We could have an eternity of inside jokes, joyous dinner dates, and long nights talking about our favorite things. He may never be my perfect eternal partner, but who would be? Nobody’s perfect. But Cannon can be the friend who always has my back.

I can trust him to do what he says he’s going to do. And if he says he’s going to be there to pick me up when I fall, I know he will be. In fact, I trust him more than anyone.

Well, almost anyone.

We continue skating, Cannon taking the lead. He sets a fast pace that whips my hair around my face and creates frizzy curls. He, of course, is a marble statue of perfection with a bright, wide smile and shimmering blue eyes. We’re a little bit of chaos and calm all rolled into one.

Cannon raises his palm to my cheek, and I’m so numb I can’t feel his touch. “You’re freezing,” he says. “Let’s go get some hot cocoa, yeah?”

I nod, and we exit the rink, stopping to remove our skates and put our boots back on. It feels strange to walk on solid ground again, and I feel a little light-headed from all the spinning. Cannon keeps me tucked close to his side, as if he can sense my instability. He settles me in a giant plush swing hanging between two massive trees and promises he’ll be back with something to warm me up.

He walks off to the stand that advertises drinks and treats, and I pull my phone out of my pocket to check it. There’s a text from Meredith asking how it’s going. I can’t report back to her that I chickened out. I have to tell Cannon what I am.

I slide my phone back into my coat pocket just as Cannon returns with the cocoa, handing me a steaming mug before sitting next to me. I snuggle in against him, relishing in his body heat. “Thank you,” I say, taking a tiny sip. “That is the best hot cocoa I’ve ever tasted!”

“I got them to add some peppermint for you. I remember you said one time that you liked peppermint chocolate.”

I did say that once. In passing. The fact that he remembered is incredibly sweet.

“Oh, I also got you a brownie,” he says, handing me a small square wrapped in wax paper.

---