Page 136 of Revolve
I press my fingers into her sides, and she squeals in laughter. “Okay, okay,” she says, still laughing. “I’m sorry. I just think it’s cute. But I’ll stop.”
I stop tickling her, and she finally calms down. Then, before she laughs again, she pulls me by my shirt to kiss me. Her smile is wide against my lips, and I know she is only kissing me to hide it. “I can feel you laughing,” I say in between kisses.
“Not …” Kiss. Giggle. “Laughing.”
That’s when I slip my tongue between her lips and let my hands slide under her T-shirt. Sierra’s breath hitches, and she goes lax under my touch. “You’re going to be late.”
“I don’t care,” I murmur.
“Dylan.”
“You want me to go?” I ask again, just to be sure. I’d hate for her to be alone if she wants me here. I’d do this with her forever if she wanted me to.
She runs the pad of her thumbs under my eyes. “Didn’t know I had you on such a tight leash.”
“That’s how I like it.” Then I kiss her again, pulling her lip between my teeth until she pushes me away.
“Go! I have to study. And I’m serious, wear that sweater I knit you.”
When I arrive, I park and pop open my trunk to slip on my skates. The guys pull into the lot just shortly after. The floodlights are nearly blinding as they bounce off the untouched ice. That’s when I see Kian, suited up and setting up nets, each one adorned with tiny fairy lights. Aiden comes to stand by my open trunk, just as Sebastian and Cole arrive.
“What are you wearing?” Sebastian asks me.
The sweater Sierra knit me is a Christmas one with random patterns and our names stitched into the sleeve. I fucking love it. “A sweater,” I reply.
“Did your grandma knit it?” Sebastian chuckles to himself, but Cole smacks his head.
Aiden’s looking at me then, clearly knowing that Sierra made it and that I’d probably want to be buried with it. “His girlfriend made it,” he tells him.
Sebastian deflates. “Lucky.”
We’re all watching Kian set up the makeshift rink. He’s checking how solid it is as he goes, then he drops a puck at center ice and looks up, raising both arms.
“Welcome to Kian’s rink of wonders!”
We all grab our sticks and meet him in the middle.
“What’s up with the decorations?” I ask.
He grins and lifts a shoulder. “This might be the last time we all get to play hockey together. I wanted to make it special.”
Seb and Cole skate up to Kian and share an awkward hug. Slowly, they huddle closer, and Aiden and I are pulled into the weird five-way hug.
Finally, when Kian taps the ice with his stick, we’re off. We play rough. I steal the puck from Cole, and cut across the ice faster than I ever have, probably from the stamina I’ve built while figure skating.
It’s when I pull back and launch the puck right at the net where Sebastian stands in as goalie that I fuck up. I don’t notice Kian in my peripheral, and he doesn’t stop fast enough before his shoulder slams into mine. The contact is solid, nothing I haven’t felt before, but my skate catches on a rough edge, and my ankle twists. I flatten awkwardly onto the ice. A flare of heat ignites in my ankle, shooting up my leg. I grit my teeth, biting back a curse.
“What’s wrong?” Aiden calls as he skates closer.
I bite down so hard, my response comes out weak. “Nothing.”
“Can’t handle the heat?” says Kian, circling me. “You’re losing your touch, Dill Pickle.” He’s still laughing when he offers me a hand.
The pain is so intense, I can’t think. Can’t come up with a snipe, can’t lift my hand to take his, and can’t fucking move. I glance back up at them, but whatever they see on my face makes theirs collapse into worry.
“You’re pale,” they say.
Ah fuck.
