Page 63 of Top Shelf
“Who wouldn’t?” I murmured. “They’re cute.”
Ferris raised his head to look at me. “I’ll make you more.”
My first instinct was to tell him he didn’t have to, but I stopped myself because I knew him a bit better than that now. I could tell it was something he wanted to do.
“Thank you.”
He kissed me for my answer, and I felt contentment in my bones in ways I didn’t know were possible. Letting this go was going to ruin me, but not having him at all would have been so much worse than these stolen moments.
The week Ferris moved in,his mom didn’t visit. I was on edge all day, every day, waiting for her to show up and catch us out onwhat we were doing. I went to work and relaxed—more relaxed when Ferris showed up for his PT, but less relaxed when we were behind closed doors, as though she could see through the thick walls.
But eventually, he told me that she’d already gone back to Toronto and would be flying in again to visit when he was ready for his new place. That was…something, I supposed. A trust she was putting in me that I didn’t expect, nor did I feel like I’d earned.
Into the second week, Ferris was more mobile. He was healing quickly and was entirely without his crutches. I was getting used to the sound of his boot on the floor as he fell into his occasional pacing, or coming home to find him curled up with his boot off, his leg elevated, his lap covered in yarn, with Clawdine sleeping on the cushion above his head.
It was starting to feel like home.
“I have an idea,” I told him that Friday when we finished his session. In my notes, I was setting his discharge date, and I would be having a conversation with his coach soon about it.
Ferris looked up at me from where he’d been staring at his wriggling toes. “What idea?”
“Skating.” I hadn’t been to the rink in a while. I hadn’t talked to Alex much either, but my life had been pretty occupied with Ferris in my bed every night and every morning.
Ferris blinked at me. “Oh. Um…”
Holding my hands out to him, I urged him to slip off the table and stand. He’d been good on his own. His break was fully weight-bearing, and although his ankle was still stiff, I could easily fit him with a brace that could fit inside a skate.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” he admitted as he took a few unaided steps toward me. He winced, and I didn’t know if that was his anxiety or his pain.
I took his hands in mine. “Do you want to try it?”
“Were you nervous the first time you did it?”
I laughed. “I was nervous, then humiliated. I’d never fallen so much in my life. I think I got in my head, you know. Right after the surgery that fused my knee, I was told I wouldn’t be able to walk properly again and that I would never skate. I think I was too afraid not to believe that. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, then be crushed if I couldn’t do it. It was kind of a self-fulfilling prophesy.”
“How long did it take?”
“For me to skate on my own?” I shrugged, my brow furrowed as I dug through those memories. “I gave up after the first week, but I went back a few months later and refused to leave until I could do one lap without falling.” I smiled down at him as I stroked a touch along his neck, making him shiver. “It took me six hours.”
Ferris swallowed heavily, but I knew it wasn’t from fear or anxiety. “You won’t let me fall?”
“I won’t let you fall.”
He was slow to get ready, but he sat very still while I fit him with a slender ankle orthotic. It wasn’t as perfect as if I’d had one molded for him, but it would work inside of a skate to keep his ankle from turning.
I would have recommended this anyway, and I sent a script through to his team for them to cover something he could wear when he had to start skating with them. I’d make the appointment for him later. I didn’t want to think about it now.
Him going off to NHL ice meant it would be the beginning of the end. It would start the ticking clock on when this was all over. Though that was a lie. The clock had started the moment he showed up at my office and I realized I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him.
Ferris appeared a few minutes later after getting dressed, his hands twisting nervously. I’d learned by now not to touch himwhen he was like that. His gaze met mine after a while. “I won’t fall,” he repeated.
I stepped in close and lowered my voice. “You won’t fall. Let’s go home and have some dinner, and I’ll call Alex. Then I’ll put your skates in the car.”
His breath was deep but trembled on his exhale. “Okay. I can be ready by then.”
I wanted to kiss him, but the cameras were watching, so instead, I smiled, took a step back, and led the way out the front doors.
Chapter Eighteen
