Page 12 of Stick Handled

Rowan has no idea his little sister showed up at my door last night. He has no idea she’s standing right in front of me—just the two of us. And I find that deeply thrilling.

ME:Sure thing. Send me the address.

I send the message and shove the phone back into my pocket, letting the corners of my mouth tug upward slightly. This girl has no idea what I’m going to do to her.

“Well,” I say, cracking my neck. “Ready to show me what you’ve got,”

Chapter five

~AVERY~

I hesitate, staring at the expanse of ice in front of me. It’s been years since I’ve stepped foot on this rink, and every second I’m here, memories of that day start flooding in. My hands tremble, and I curl them into fists at my sides, trying to shake the images out of my head.

Damien gets on the ice first, making a small circle before gliding back to the entrance. I swallow hard, watching how natural it all seems to him. He was made for this.

“Ready?” His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I lie, my heart already thudding in my chest. I nod, even though every instinct tells me to turn around and leave before embarrassing myself in front of him.

I step onto the ice, and instantly, a chill rushes through me. My muscles lock, my mind screaming at me to get off. The last time—no, I won’t think about that.

“Welcome back on the ice.” Damien’s warm hand suddenly wraps around mine, anchoring me. I look down at it, his tattoos peeking out from under his hoodie. “Now, try to relax. I got you.”

I take a breath and force myself to nod, even though my heart’s hammering so hard it feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest. I glance at the door, half-expecting Rowan to burst in and drag me out.

Damien starts moving, gliding effortlessly across the ice with me in tow. I try to focus on the sensation of skating again, but all I can think about is how quickly things can go wrong and how angry Rowan will be once he finds out. He always does.

“You’re too stiff,” Damien’s voice cuts in, his tone calm, but there’s that playful edge to it. “Your body remembers how to do this, but your mind’s getting in the way.”

I glance at him, frustration building. “I’m trying.”

He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re doing fine. Just let your weight shift naturally, and stop overthinking every move.”

“Easy for a professional hockey player to say to a newborn giraffe,” I blurt out, and Damien laughs, the sound echoing through the space.

“I don’t think newborn giraffes are able to do double axels,” he counters, amused. “You are,” he adds with a little nod.

“Not anymore,” I murmur, the thought sadder now that I’ve vocalized it.

The amusement vanishes from his eyes for a moment, and his eyes fall to the ice in front of us. He remains silent as he turns to face me, my hand still in his.

He’s skating backwards now, pulling me along effortlessly. “Bend your knees a little more, soften your stance. You’re fighting the ice.”

I try to follow his instructions, my legs shaking beneath me. My gaze stays glued to his feet, watching the smooth and confident way he moves. I wish I could move like that. But the more I focus on trying to mirror him, the more I feel my balance slipping.

Suddenly, my left skate wobbles, and I feel my body tipping sideways. My breath catches in my throat as panic shoots through me, but before I can even start to fall, Damien’s there. His hands grip my waist, pulling me upright in one swift motion.

“Whoa. Easy,” he says, his breath warm against my ear. He’s close now, too close, and my heart skips a beat for an entirely different reason. “You okay?”

I nod, my face flushing. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He doesn’t let go right away, though. His hands linger, strong and steady against my waist, and when he finally steps back, he gives me a smile.

Dammit.

“Let’s try again,” he says, still watching me intently. “This time, push off your right foot first, then glide. Focus on me, not the ice.”

Right. Focus on him… as if that’s supposed to help.

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