Page 151 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

As the final seconds tick down on the clock, I pull out my phone to text Ash, but Mom grabs it from my hand and tucks it under her thigh. “No. No phones.”

“Mom, I gotta find out where they are. It’s been forever––”

“They’ll be fine. Promise.”

Unconvinced, I take in her not-so-well-hidden mischievous look and demand, “Okay, seriously. What’s going on, Mom?”

“Watch the game, honey.” She grabs my chin and pushes it back toward the rink.

I wiggle from her grasp and turn toward her again. “Mom––”

“Watch,” she orders, barely withholding her smile.

Yeah. Something is definitely up.

I study the players on the ice, but there isn’t anything out of the ordinary. It’s like every other game I’ve ever been to. Thirty seconds later, the buzzer sounds, signifying the end of the game, and the announcer’s voice rumbles throughout the arena.

“And the final score for today’s game is LAU five points and Minnesota University three points. However, for those who would like to stay, please remain seated. There’s a bonus piece of entertainment beginning any moment.”

Minnesota University disappears through their tunnel leading to the away team’s locker room while the LAU team skates back onto the ice. Most of them are holding hands with little kids in red LAU shirts.

Shut. The front. Door.

The players skate slowly as the mini-people shuffle into place, and my jaw drops as I recognize the children.

“Did you know about this?” I breathe out, unable to tear my attention from Ash, Mia, Kate, and the rest of the kids on the ice.

Mom squeezes my knee again. “Told you they were fine.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Did Colt––”

“Honey.” She chuckles softly. “I love your brother, but do you really think he’d plan this whole thing for you?”

My attention flicks to her for a split second. I stand up to get a better view of the ice. The kids are spread out, forming a small circle around the center of the rink. Each is holding a small basket of rose petals and scattering them along the ice. The contrast between the red from the petals and the white from the ice is staggering but absolutely beautiful, especially from this distance. It’s like I’m given a bird’s-eye view, and the sight makes my knees weak. She’s right. There’s no way Colt would do this. But Theo?

I fold my arms and dig my fingers into the soft cotton of my sleeves. My heart rate picks up its pace, pitter-pattering faster and faster as every second ticks by while I search the rink for Theo.

But he isn’t here.

Where is he?

Doing my best to hide the onslaught of anticipation thrumming through my veins, I remind myself, Don’t get your hopes up, Blake.

But I can’t help it.

I’ve never been able to help it when it comes to Theo.

It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve gotten my hopes up or how much it hurts, I keep coming back for another hit of Teddy Taylor. Why would today be any different?

The main lights switch off. Only a few spotlights illuminate the ice. My skin prickles with awareness as the majority of onlookers sit back in their seats, their curiosity getting the best of them.

A few seconds later, a man appears from the tunnel and heads onto the ice, his shaggy blonde hair on full display. It’s Theo. A very dapper Theo. He touches the buttons on his navy blue suit and runs his fingers through his dirty blonde hair while balancing a bouquet of red roses in one hand and a microphone with his other one. His signature hat is missing, but he still looks sexy as hell as he faces the crowd. He searches the stands, finding me transfixed beside my seat.

With a smirk, he lifts a microphone to his lips and murmurs, “Blakely Thorne. Do you mind coming down here for a minute?”

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