Page 61 of Perfect Score

“Yeah, Zoe… we can go slow.”

I’ll go at whatever speed you want as long as we decimate that wall you built between us.

I pull her out onto the ice slowly.

She wobbles a little the first second that her blades hit the ice. Like a damn cute newborn baby giraffe, first learning to walk.

She watches her skates with each push she makes.

I coach her while skating backward, bringing her with me.

Her hands gripped tightly to mine. The look of someone experiencing ice skating for the first time is an honor to witness. I don’t know who I’d be if I hadn’t had hockey during my parents' death. It was the only thing that pulled me out of the darkness. Being out on the ice was the only time I could breathe.It’s the only place where pain and hurt and fear of the unknown couldn’t follow me. All I was required to do out there was skate.

“Take your time. We’re not in a rush,” I say to ease her mind. “Use your back leg to push off.”

She does, gliding forward toward me while I skate backward.

“Good,” I praise.

She doesn’t look up from her skates, but I see the smile of confidence starting to bloom.

“Nice work.”

I continue to encourage her as we skate close to the sidewalls, letting faster ice skaters whiz past us.

We’ve made two full laps around the rink when she looks up at me with a huge grin on her face. She’s proud of herself, and so am I.

Some punk-ass kid comes skating too close to Zoey, trying to impress me with his fancy footwork, but it startles Zoey.

She lets out a squeak and starts to wobble, quickly losing her footing.

Just before she eats it, I grip her around her middle and pull her up to me.

Her fingers grip tightly to my jacket to steady herself. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at me.

“Whoa, are you okay?” I ask once she recovers and gets her feet back under her.

She’s still a little uneasy in my arms, but I’m in no hurry to let her go.

“Yeah… I’m fine. Thanks for not letting me land on my ass. That would have been humiliating,” she giggles.

Our faces are so close that I want to bend down again and taste her for a second time.

Her honey-brown eyes stay fixed on mine, and this feels like the moment I get to kiss her because we both want it, notbecause of some Christmas tradition that we were put on the spot to do.

“I’m ready!” The kid from the skate rentals desk rolls up on us.

Has it already been twenty minutes?

I think he’s cheating.

I look down at her, and she smiles back at me.

“That’s my cue for some hot cocoa in that heated room that overlooks the rink,” she tells me.

It’s the room she used to watch Liam and our high school team during practice skate when there weren't all the families on the bleachers during the game.

I don’t want her to go, but I did promise this kid I’d spend a few minutes with him.

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