Tangled Vows (Willow Brook Falls #3)

14. Shayla

14

SHAYLA

“ I can’t believe you’ve never ice skated before,” Lydia said as we laced up our skates.

“Me neither.” For someone who’s always enjoyed watching hockey, I was never brave enough to play. Not that I had much of an opportunity. Willow Brook Falls didn’t have a hockey team, and my mom couldn’t afford to enter me into another league or the cost to transport me back and forth. The lake on the outskirts of town rarely got cold enough to freeze over completely, so no one was permitted to skate on it in the winter. Shaking those thoughts away, I stood on wobbly legs.

“How long did you say we had?”

She glanced down at her watch. “About forty-five minutes.” Lydia was the organizer for a youth hockey camp sponsored by the Wraiths and had graciously offered to squeeze me in for my first skating lesson before the kids showed up. I had a feeling I wouldn’t need that long before my ass was sore from falling on it.

“Whoa,” I croaked as I stepped onto the ice. I gripped the barrier on the edge of the rink to steady myself.

“You can start by holding onto the barrier while you glide around the edge, and when you get comfortable with that, we’ll venture toward the middle,” Lydia instructed. I nodded my agreement and began slowly gliding over the ice. “Just relax,” she soothed, skating backward as she observed me.

I looked down at my white-knuckled grip and flexed my fingers, resting my palm on the ledge. I could do this.

“Are you ready to pull away from the barrier?” Lydia asked once I’d gone halfway around the rink.

“Not sure, but I’m willing to give it a try.” I shrugged even though my hands were clammy and perspiration dotted my brow despite the cool temperature. This was much harder than it looked.

I let go, skating hesitantly onto the ice. My torso wavered backward then forward as I attempted to find my balance. After a few more tries and some tips from Lydia, I began to glide around the rink. I moved at a snail’s pace and stuck close to the edge so I’d have something to grab onto if I started to fall.

Surprisingly, I managed to stay upright for two full passes around the rink. I was halfway through the third when a familiar voice rang out over the ice.

“Shayla?” My gaze shot up, and my eyes locked with Easton’s. My step faltered, and I lost my balance, my arms wind milling dramatically like in a cartoon. It all happened so fast, yet it felt like I was moving in slow motion. One minute I was flailing my arms like those inflatable tube men you see outside car dealerships, and then I was falling. My feet shot out from under me, and I landed flat on my back, my head cracking off the ice.

Lydia gasped as I groaned out an “owwww.” I tried to sit up, but my head swam. Faster than I would’ve thought possible, Easton was at my side, crouching on one knee.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes searching my face.

“I-I think I hit my head.”

He cursed under his breath and made a peace sign in front of my face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two,” I replied. Satisfied, he gripped my hand and asked, “Do you think you can sit up?” I nodded, and he helped me into a sitting position. I reached back to rub my head where it collided with the ice and winced at the pain. My fingers came away wet, and I looked down to find a smear of crimson staining the tips.

“Shit,” Easton cursed again.

“I’ll go grab the first aid kit,” Lydia said before scurrying off.

“Can you stand?” Easton asked.

“I think so.” He gripped my arms and helped me to my feet. Once I was upright, he dropped his hands as though I’d burned him. I instantly lost my balance without his support and wobbled on my feet. To my horror, I fell into him, my face pressed to his hard chest as his arms came around me.

“Sorry,” I croaked, my face flaming with embarrassment. The last thing this man wanted was to touch me, and here I was with my body plastered against his.

“That was my fault,” he said, pulling away to hold me at arm’s length. “I shouldn’t have let go of you so soon.” Indignation burned in my gut, and I was in just enough pain to say what was on my mind. There was no holding back now.

“Look, I know the thought of touching me disgusts you, but if you could just hold onto me long enough for me to get back to the barrier, I might be able to avoid getting a concussion today.”

He drew back as though I’d slapped him, his eyes widening in shock. That’s right, fucker, I heard what you said about me . His expression quickly morphed into confusion, and his brows knit together.

“That’s not—” he began then shook his head, rethinking his response. “I didn’t want to make you uncomf—” he started again but was interrupted when a childlike voice called to him from behind the boards.

“Uncle E, is the pretty girl okay?”