Page 139 of Unsteady

“Everly,” she snaps at her. “You don’t have to make a scene every time youdon’tdo what I say.” She crosses her arms and skates a little closer to the girl. “Now, try it again. You’re so close.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Language,” she snaps, like she doesn’t have the mouth of a sailor most of the time. I can see the little threats of a smirk from here. “Please.”

“Whatever.”

Sadie sighs and cups her hands around her mouth. “Okay, circle up.”

She dismisses them all, ignorant as usual to the way her little protégés watch her with stars in their eyes. They all exit quickly and Sadie starts to gather her mini cones and erase the whiteboard marker from the ice.

I’m smiling and probably looking obviously lovesick as I lean against the open board entry and wait for her to notice me.

She does, eyes shooting wide, a smile quickly following as she races towards me, tossing everything over the threshold before grabbing my jacket and jerking me almost onto the ice. I grab tight to the glass on the side, letting her devour my mouth for a moment, before I reach for her waist and pick her up.

“I missed you,” she murmurs into my neck as I carry her to the bleachers.

“I missed you more, Gray.” I kiss the top of her head. “Where’s your bag?”

She points to it, and I grab it, undoing her skates and massaging her little feet before slipping them into her sneakers. All the while, she keeps staring at me like I might disappear.

The distance isn’t too much, but it’s enough that it’s hard—especially my first year.

I wanted her to come with me to New York when they drafted me, but I knew she wouldn’t leave Oliver and Liam behind. I also knew she wanted to take care of them, and was too scared to rely completely on my parents.

My rookie year had been tough and a learning process, especially on how little time I would have during the season, but it also came with a lot of rewards. Not only did we make it to the playoffs, despite getting knocked in the first round, I made friends. One, who opened up to me about his own struggles with an injury and mental health.

We even co-wrote an article forSports Illustratedabout men’s mental health and how to ask for help when you need it. I’d almost say that was more successful than any of my plays during that first year, garnering world-wide media attention, interviews, TikTok fan accounts and the works.

It also garnered enough attention to leave me with a jealous Sadie ready to pounce and devour me every time I picked her up from the train station, or after games that she could come to, and especially coming home to where she’d moved into my old room at my parents’ house.

Which, made my protective instincts at not being near her feel calm, settling some strange primal part of me, knowing she was falling asleep each night inmybed.

She ended up graduating late, finishing the next fall after everyone graduated in the spring. It helped her graduate with more pride in herself and her work, and to have another round of competitive skating without the pressure of her abusive coach.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you only had like two days before you travel.”

I wince, pressing a few circles into her legging-clad calves. “I do. But I’d rather be here, than there.”

Sadie took the job my dad offered when she graduated, wanting her to help him open up an entire sector of the First Line Foundation dedicated to figure skaters in need.

She is happy now, helping and still doing what she loves.

“Did you drive?”

She shakes her head. “Your dad picked me up this morning before our meeting with the Trust executives. So, I’m all yours.”

We drive back to her new apartment—a beautiful development slightly outside of Waterfell, on the road leading into Boston. It’s only a few minutes walk to the train there, where our small university town is starting to really grow.

But we don’t make it into the house before Sadie is climbing the console of my rented car, into my lap, hands in my hair and lips pressed hard to mine. It’s borderline freezing outside, but I’m sweating, panting beneath her by the time she releases me.

“Let’s go inside, hotshot,” she murmurs, laying her head on my chest, underneath my chin. I squeeze her a little tighter and smile. “I need more of you.”

“Okay, Gray.”

* * *

SADIE

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