Page 30 of Puck to the Heart
When Ash kissed me, it was a match in pitch black night, a tiny flame set to the kindling that was my blood. And Iburnedso slowly I didn’t notice until I was already ablaze. For him.
Whatever fire he lit inside me set those damned butterflies alight.
I pressed a hand to my mouth, unable to look away from Ash.
“I’m sorry.” The inky depths of his eyes were entirely visible as he stared back in shock.
“What for?” My voice crackled in the cold air.
“I should’ve asked.” His voice went lower, smoking around the edges.
“You can ask now.”
He breathed the words out. “May I?—”
“Yes,” I interrupted. “Please.” The word fell out on a breath.
With another kiss so soft my heart ached at the tenderness, Ash slid his hands into my hair, gently cradling the back of my head. It was so at odds with the way he’d been moments before, but somehow it wasn’t.
“Skate with me.” A hint of what he must have looked like as a boy peeked through the angles of the sharp-jawed man, all eager and unfettered by expectation and pressure.
“I can’t skate.” My ankles wobbled all on their own to prove my point.
“Let me show you.” When he tugged on my hands, I slid forward, gripping his forearms with a yelp.
“Don’t let me fall.”
“I won’t. Trust me.”
I did. It surprised us both.
It wasn’t easy, letting him take over, but I did my best to let go. And it was nice, following instructions for once, not having to make decisions, left, right, left, right, gliding over the ice on knife-thin pieces of metal on my feet. Whenever I thought about it, I panicked, so instead of thinking, I focused solely on Ash.
The setting sun created a golden-pink glow against the stark white of the rink, and it was like looking at an old photo or through literal rose-colored glasses. Even all the facts rising in my mind about atmospheric pollution causing color distribution silently sank back into the depths of my brain as Ash moved us across the ice. We stayed together until the sun fully set and dark crept in beyond the lights of the rink. Either his hands cradled me by the waist, holding us steady, or he cupped his hands on my elbows, directing me. Normally, anyone being in my space would’ve sent me into a tailspin of sensation, but Ash was different. The reason I became calm instead of the reason I needed calming.
A million tiny details fascinated me in such close proximity to his face. A scar across his left cheekbone, so thin I only noticed it from this proximity. The length of his lashes as he trained his eyes on my skates when I tripped over myself. The flex of his jaw when he met my eyes and looked away.
And so many others I wanted to catalog and analyze and?—
I blinked, remembering we were on a rink filled with people.
Being so close to Ash made me forget anyone else existed. A jolt traveled through me with the realization of what we just didin public, and I dropped his hands.
Which was a mistake.
All the graceful gliding we’d been doing around the rink was entirely Ash’s doing, and I retained nothing from his instruction. When I let go, my ankles turned in, my knees collapsed and the next thing I knew, I landed on my ass on the ice.
Instead of helping me, Ash crouched down beside me, irritatingly able to stay upright on his skates in such a weird position.
It made me hate him a tiny bit, but he looked soboyishand adorable with a huge smile on his face. “That one’s on you, Barnes. You let go.”
Grumbling, I tried to push to my feet, but the skates kept slipping. Ash rose and held out a hand.
Crystalline awareness hit as he pulled me upright. Every giggle of a child or huffed breath of the adults chasing them, every scrape of blades, every pink and orange and blue streak in the sky and the myriad shades of black in Ash’s eyes, every layer of scent from the fire to the mingling perfumes to the scent of Ash’s spicy cologne gut-punched me. And I clung to the ones that werejust him.
And apparently, I clungtohim as well, as he let out a hiss of a breath when I rose fully, my hands gripping the solid strength of his arms.
As the sun slowly sank behind the buildings, Ash and I stayed hand in hand as he led me around the ice. When I wasn’t falling over my own feet, I saw why he loved it, the freedom and speed of it, the element of control not present when simply walking. Letting him steer us was also freeing, in its own way. Letting someone else take over went beyond everything I thought I knew about myself, but Ash didn’t push, he guided. But I still wouldn’t be doing it on my own anytime soon.
