Page 14 of Stick Handled

He’s got a game coming up yet he still agreed to give me skating lessons.

Damien opens the car door for me, completely ignoringLexi’slingering gaze. “Hop in, Red.”

“Thanks,” I mutter before he closes the door and circles around. It might seem mean, but I can’t help but smile.

By the time Damien pulls into my driveway, I’m still riding the high from the lesson. I’d been so scared to get back on the ice, but I did it. I actually did it. As I sit in the passenger seat, my heart still racing, I grin like an idiot.

“You did good today,” Damien says, breaking the silence. I glance over at him, expecting the usual teasing, but his tone is genuine.

“Yeah?” My voice comes out a little too eager, but I don’t care. For the first time in years, I’m not thinking about the accident. I’m thinking about how it felt to glide, even if it was shaky. “I mean, I was a little all over the place, but it felt good.”

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm.

“Muscle memory takes time. But it’s there. You’ll see it coming back the more you get out there.”

I nod, my excitement bubbling over. “I didn’t know if I could even get back on the ice at all.”

“I knew you could.” His voice is calm and steady, but there’s something behind it—confidence in me. And that encourages me even more.

I’m about to grab the skates he bought me from the floor when his hand covers mine. I freeze, my heart skipping a beat as his fingers press gently over mine.

“Leave them in the car,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth. “You’ll need them for the next time.”

“You want to skate with me again?” I ask, my eyes widening with genuine surprise. “But the game—”

“What, you got one lesson from me and don’t need me anymore?” He furrows his brows with a smile. “Harsh, Red.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I explain myself. “I just thought, with the big game around the corner and all…”

“Tomorrow. I’ll text you. Don’t be late.”

Right.

“Okay.” I swallow, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. But it’s impossible with him sitting so close, his hand still on mine, his thumb grazing the back of my hand.

I should move. I should pull away, thank him, and get out of the car, but I can’t seem to make my body cooperate. His eyes, those golden, dangerous eyes, are locked on mine, and it’s like he’s daring me to say something, to break the silence.

But I can’t. So, I do the only thing I can manage—I breathe. And when I finally do pull away, it’s with a quiet “Thanks” before trying to practically bolt out of the car like an absolute coward. Sarah’s going to bereal proudof me for that one.

I grab the door handle, but before I can fully escape, I hear his voice one last time, low and teasing. “You’re very welcome.”

I nod, closing the door behind me, but I can still feel his eyes on me as I walk up the driveway. It takes everything in me not to look back.

A few hours later, I’m in the kitchen when I hear the front door open. Rowan and Ares stride in. There’s something about the way Rowan carries himself, always polished, always poised. Even now, after a long day, he looks like he could walk into a boardroom and command the room with just a few words. It’s always been like that.

I feel my body immediately stiffen, expecting him to have found out about the lesson Damien gave me.

He spots me in the kitchen, and instead of scowling, he smiles that warm, protective smile that always makes me feel like everything’s going to be okay.

He has no idea.

“Hey.” I wave a hand at him and Ares.

“Good evening,” Ares greets me calmly.

Rowan walks over to me and presses a gentle kiss on top of my head before squeezing my shoulders.

“I’m sorry I was gone all day,” he says as he starts massaging them. “Jesus, what got your muscles so tense?”

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