Page 52 of The Valentine's Bet

Oh no.

I spin around to see Amy down on the ice, her hot chocolate all over her outfit, and her face contorted in pain. I don’t even bother to say anything to Louise before skating away.

As I get closer, I hear—and see—Amy’s skating partnerlaughing.

Anger boils in my chest as I watch Amy helplessly sitting on the ice, reaching for her ankle.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, nearly shoulder-bumping the guy she’s with—who’s still laughing.

“Dude, she’s fine. She just needs to get up and get moving, and she’ll feel better. She’s just trying to—”

“You can leave now,” I cut him off, glaring at him.

His brows furrow and he sizes me up. “Yeah? And who areyou?”

“He’s just my friend,” Amy squeaks out, her voice wavering.

“Yeah. Now go find someone else to laugh at before I—”

“Parker,” Amy warns, emotion palpable in her voice.

“This isn’t worth it. Good luck dealing with her,” the guy mutters, shaking his head and skating away.

I’m half tempted to pick up the smashed Styrofoam cup and throw it at him, but I know it’d be fruitless. I drop to my knees beside Amy, going for the laces on her skates. “Is it your ankle?”

She looks at me wearily and nods. “Yeah, I just ... I just lost my balance. I’m terrible at ice skating.”

I shrug, working the laces off. “Everyone falls.” Her ankle’s already swelling, and I can’t hide my concern. “There’s bruising,” I comment as I check it and then put her sock back in place. “Let me get you out of these skates and help you up. Then we’ll see if you can put any weight on it.”

I take her skates off gently, trying not to cause any more pain than necessary. As I help her stand, I notice her wince as she tries to put weight on her injured ankle.

“We need to get you to the ER. I’ll order an Uber.”

“I’m sure it’s fine...”

“It’s not fine, Amy.” I don’t want to argue with her, but it’s worth it for her well-being.

Just then, Brittany glides up. “Will you take these back?” I hold out Amy’s skates.

“Are you okay?” Brittany takes the skates from me, her eyes on Amy. “That was a hard fall.”

Amy shrugs as a rogue tear spills down her cheek. Something in my chest flips at the sight, but I push it away. I mean, no one likes to see a woman cry, right? In one swift motion, I lift Amy off the ground and cradle her in my arms.

“Wh-what are you doing? You can’t skate with me like this...” She hangs on tight, wrapping her arms around my neck like she might suffocate me. But also...

Man, she smells so good.

“It’s a lot faster this way,” I choke out, heading toward the exit.

“He’s good at this,” Brittany informs Amy, hanging out beside us. “You’re in good hands. Also, that guy you were with was a total jerk. I can’t believe he didn’t even try to help you or make sure you were okay.”

“I didn’t tell him my ankle hurt.”

“Your ankle is in bad shape,” I mutter just as Amy’s hair brushes my cheek. My body reacts in all the ways I wish it wouldn’t.

Just think about something else.

“Is that who I think it is?” Brittany’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “It’s ...Weston.”

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