Page 11 of Stick Handled

I watch as she fumbles with the laces, her fingers trembling slightly. Before she can even attempt it, I reach over, my hands covering hers.

“Here,” I murmur, pulling her laces from her grip. “Let me.”

She freezes, staring down at my hands on hers, her breath hitching as I lean in. “I can do it myself,” she protests.

Her cheeks flush a deep crimson as I kneel in front of her, somehow still about an inch taller.

“You trust me to teach you how to skate but not to get your skates on right?” I tease, glancing at her.

She smiles, and I swear I can almost hear her heartbeat racing. She bites her lip, and I feel a rush of something dark and possessive flood through me.

Slowly, I begin to lace up her skate, tightening it carefully. She’s trying not to look at me, but every now and then, I catch her glancing down, watching the way my hands work. I don’t even need to look at the laces to tie them. I’ve done this a million times. But I like her thinking I can’t see the way she’s stealing glances at me, so I keep my head down.

I finish tying the first skate and slide her other foot onto my knee, repeating the process, taking my time, enjoying my hands on her.

“You’re tense, Red. You gotta relax.”

“Easier said than done,” she huffs a small laugh, clearly struggling to do anything,never mindrelax.

“Just focus on me,” I murmur, my voice lowering as I finish with the last knot. I rise to my feet but keep my body bent so my face is inches from hers.

Her eyes snap up to mine, wide and full of something I can’t quite name.

“You want this. You asked for this,” I remind her, my voice almost a whisper. “You’re excited about this, not nervous. You can’t wait to get back on the ice. You’re not scared,” I recite.

Her brows twitch toward each other, clearly not understanding what I want from her.

“Say it,” I urge her, and she takes a deep breath.

“I’m not scared,” she whispers.

“I can’t hear you,” I whisper back.

“I’m not scared,” she says a little louder. “I want to do this.”

Good girl,I almost say out loud.

“Good,” I say instead. I stand up and grab my own skates from the couch, quickly tying them up before holding out my hand to her. “You ready?”

Avery hesitates, staring at my hand. After a moment, she takes it. Slipping her soft hand in mine, I feel a buzz of electricity I haven’t felt in a long time. I quickly pull her to her feet. She stumbles a little, unsteady, and I catch her, my hands on her waist. Fuck, she feels so good.

“Easy,” I murmur. “We’re not even on the ice yet.”

Her eyes flicker up to mine, wide and clear. Her lips are slightly parted, and her tongue darts out to lick them.

Jesus Christ.I let her go before I do anything stupid.

“Follow me,” I say as I lead her out of the locker rooms. There’s a charged silence between us as we walk toward the entrance to the rink.

But before we can even get on the ice, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out, glancing at the screen. Rowan’s name flashes on the text, and I instinctively swipe it open.

ROWAN:In a meeting. Avery’s getting coffee with Sarah. Can you pick her up at 2? I’ll send you the address.

What?My eyes flicker back to Avery. Her eyes are fixed on the rink in front of her like she’s already mentally preparing herself to step onto the ice.

Coffee date, huh?And then it hits me.

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