Page 124 of Blindside Me
Drew’s head snaps up, and our eyes lock across the ice. He stills immediately, lowering his stick to his side.
He skates to the edge and braces a hand on the boards.
“Hey,” he says, breath fogging in the air.
“Hey.” I nod at the nearly dark rink. “Did you rent out the world for the night?”
He shrugs, mouth tugging into something that might be a smile. “I figured if I were going to try again, I’d start where I don’t mess things up.”
He taps his stick against the edge of the bench, and I follow his glance.
A pair of skates with laces curled neatly on the bench. Waiting.
“I didn’t bring you here to talk,” he says gently. “Not yet. I just wanted to skate with you.”
Something in my chest stutters.
“No games. No team. Just ... this.”
I walk over, eyeing the skates like they might bite. “I haven’t skated in years. Not since before my uncle left.”
“They should fit. Your uncle helped me with the size.”
My head snaps up. “My uncle knows you’re here?”
Drew’s jaw tightens slightly. “We talked. Earlier today.”
The implications of that send my thoughts spinning. What did they discuss? What was said about me?
“I can explain everything,” Drew adds quickly. “But not like this. Not with boards between us and words that won’t come out right.” He taps the ice with his stick. “This first. If you want.”
I should say no. Should demand explanations and apologies before giving him any part of myself again. But there’s something in the way he watches me, cautious, hopeful, afraid, that makes me reach for the skates.
I move to a nearby bench and sit, removing my boots with fingers that aren’t quite steady. The skates are new, not rental quality, but decently made. They slide onto my feet more comfortably than I expected.
My fingers feel clumsy as I fumble with the laces. The little betrayers. Halfway through the second skate, I glance up to find Drew watching me from the ice. He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me like maybe being here means more than I realized. The simple acknowledgement makes my heart skip.
I finish lacing up and stand unsteadily, wobbling slightly as I approach the entrance.
Stepping onto the ice, I immediately lose my balance, arms flailing in an embarrassing windmill motion. Drew glides forward, stopping just short of touching me. He doesn’t laugh or tease. He extends his hand, palm up.
“You can hold onto me.” He shrugs. “Just this once.”
I hesitate momentarily before placing my hand in his, accepting his olive branch. His calloused fingers close around mine, and that warm tingly feeling, the one that feels like home,worms its way through me. I’d forgotten how perfectly our hands fit together, and how naturally my fingers slide between his.
“Okay.” I nod, gripping tighter as my skates threaten to slide in opposite directions. “But if I go down, I’m taking you with me.”
A real smile this time, small but genuine. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I side-eye him, unsure if that’s supposed to be a double entendre or something innocent. I let it slide.
We begin skating slowly, making a wide loop around the rink’s perimeter. I’m tense at first, and every muscle is rigid as I concentrate on not falling. Drew’s hand is steady in mine, his pace adjusted to my wobbly movements. His hand steadies at my waist. Not firm but lingering. Warm. He rolls his shoulder slightly, like it’s stiff.
I pretend his hold is just for balance, but my pulse doesn’t get the memo.
“I can’t remember the last time I did this,” I admit, my breath visible in the cold air. “Probably before my uncle left for Cessna. He used to take me to the rink when my mom disappeared.”
Drew’s fingers tighten imperceptibly around mine. “And now?”
