Page 117 of Breaking Point
“No,” I say with a chuckle.
She points behind her. “I’ll meet you by the rink.”
Bella’s soft hands are in mine, her eyes are bright with happiness, and my heart is full. So incredibly full just by the sight of her, even as her lips part with a sharp cry of surprise as she slightly stumbles.
My hands tighten, catching her before she falls.
“Damn, you weren’t lying when you said your coordination is shit.” That’s putting it nicely. She’s like a wobbly newborn giraffe.
Her eyes flick to mine but wisely dart away to concentrate on the ice. “Just be grateful I haven’t accidentally sliced your finger off.”
“How would you be able to do that?”
“Never say never,” she huffs out.
Her legs tense, her hands clutching mine in a death grip as the boards come into view.
“Loosen up, Blaze. You’re as hard as a rock.”
“I’m trying not to fall!”
“Have I let you fall?”
She pauses, her legs jerking. “Well…no.”
“Exactly.” I shake my head slightly. “I won’t let you fall. Just give me a little trust on this.”
At the wordtrust, something clouds her gaze, making her body tighten even more. I sigh, slowing us to a stop. There’s one thing that might work better.
“Can you trust me for just five minutes while we try something new?”
She bites her lip, her gaze turning quizzical. “What would we try?”
Instead of explaining, I keep a hold of her hand, skating around her, then come to a stop behind her, my chest flushed against her back. I feel her sharp intake of air.
“Grayson?”
Sliding my hands along her forearms and up her biceps, I savor the feel of her smooth skin, the way goosebumps pebble her flesh as I slowly trail my fingers down to rest on her hips. My fingers flex at how close we are, yet not close enough.
Bending, my lips brush the shell of her ear, and I love how she shivers at the delicate touch. “Skate for me, Bella.”
Her swallow is audible. “But what if?—”
“I’m not going to let you fall.”
Her body, tense against mine, begins to melt ever so slowly as she leans back into my warmth.
“That’s it,” I whisper.
She releases a small breathy sound as I slowly guide her forward. I can’t help but smile as she places her hands atop mine—still on her waist—holding them in a death grip.
“Okay, I’m trusting you,” she heaves out. The words sound like she’s had to ply them out with tweezers.
For the first time since her wobbly legs stepped foot on the ice, her movements are smooth and languid, her body flowing with mine as we skate around the rink.
She huffs a laugh. “Oh my god, I’m doing it! I’m doing it, Grayson!”
My smile is stretched so far my cheeks ache. “See? I said you could do it.”
