Chapter 24 #2
I don’t really believe him—if anyone’s at fault it’s me—but I nod anyway, telling myself not to dwell on regret. He squeezes my hand, scooting closer to me on the bench, and my body warms from the inside out at his proximity.
“So, do you know how to skate?” he asks, thankfully changing the subject.
I laugh at the question. “Not in the slightest. Do you?”
“Eh, not really.”
I nudge his shoulder. “You liar. I saw you skating circles around those people out there. I half expected you to whip out a triple lutz.”
He snickers. “I played hockey in middle school.”
At this point, I’m not even surprised. “Of course you did.”
“Wanna give it a shot?” he asks, nodding at the ice. “You can use me for balance if you want.”
I hesitate, trying and failing not to conjure up mental images of myself falling flat on my ass. “You’re sure?”
He grins, already pulling me to my feet. “Absolutely. I won’t let you fall. Not ever.”
My feet wobble as we step out onto the ice, and I clutch his arm in a death grip, too freaked to care that my nails are digging into his skin.
We begin skating, joining the circling crowd of students.
Truthfully, I’m not so much skating as I am shuffling, but after a few laps, my ankles manage to stabilize.
I graduate from gripping Wes’s arm for balance to simply holding his hand and finally start to relax and enjoy the moment.
As we skate around and around, Wes never once drops my hand or allows the crowd to separate us.
And when he drags us into the center of the loop and spins us in circles until I’m laughing so hard my ribs ache, I don’t care about the dirty looks or whispers from some of the girls on the ice, too caught up in this perfect moment with Wes.
“I think I need a break,” I call to him over the music, only once my ankles start screaming in protest. He nods, and together, we make for the exit.
“You’re a natural out there,” he tells me as we step off the ice.
I snort. “I think you need to look up the term ‘natural’ in the dictionary. I’m like a baby giraffe learning to walk for the first time. On ice.”
He laughs at that, slinging an arm over my shoulder. “You really don’t see yourself clearly, Ives, but that’s okay. That’s what I’m here for.”
I smile at him but fear I may grow addicted to seeing myself through his eyes. I’m not convinced his vision’s more accurate, but it’s so much kinder than my own.
We never make it back onto the ice, but we hang at the rink for a while longer, ordering food and drinks from the concession stand. We meet up with Quinn and Remy, who have also had their fill of ankle pain and crowd claustrophobia.
“I was starting to feel like a hamster on a wheel,” Quinn says. “There’s only so many times I can skate in a circle before my vertigo kicks in.”
“I’m just proud of myself for staying upright,” I tell her at the same moment a couple girls pass by our table, making obvious eyes at the man next to me.
“Hey, Doc,” one of them giggles, and my shoulders tense. Wes gives her a tight smile and throws an arm around my back, tucking me into his side. Her eyes narrow on me, but her friend pulls her away before she can cause a scene.
Quinn snorts. “Man, Ivy. I’m glad some bitch didn’t pull a Tonya Harding on your ass out there.”
“I would never let that happen,” says Wes, his arm flexing around me. He plants a kiss on my temple, and my face warms at the public display.
Quinn sighs. “You two are sickeningly adorable. Aren’t they, Remy?”
“Mhm. Soulmates,” he says and takes a giant bite of his corn dog.
Wes and I look at him in surprise, but Quinn simply shrugs. “He’s a man of few words, sure, but he always says the right ones.”
We stay a bit longer and then say our goodbyes, heading to Wes’s car with our ears ringing from the noisy rink.
We drive for a while in comfortable silence before I turn lazily to face him, studying his features in the dim light.
The dark eyelashes fanning over his cheek with every blink.
The strong jaw shadowed with the barest hint of stubble.
The full mouth, upturned as he hums quietly along with whatever’s on the radio.
I doubt he even realizes he’s doing it, which makes it even more endearing.
When the car rolls to a stop in front of my building, I’m still admiring him. Still marveling. And so when he shifts the car into park and looks over at me with his whole heart exposed, I’m unprepared.
Because I see them there, his feelings, written across his face in the most vulnerable, beautiful ink, and my own heart expands in response, filling up my chest. I don’t think when I lean across the car and press my mouth to his.
It’s pure instinct. And when he cradles my face with both hands and kisses me back, the world around us stills.
The kiss is slow. Languid. Dreamy. I drown in his citrusy scent and bask in the warmth of his lips, tilting my head to deepen our connection.
Wes makes a low noise, one that has my pulse fluttering like a hummingbird and my blood rushing through my veins.
He tangles his tongue with mine in a way that makes me whimper.
I lose track of time as we kiss, exploring, immersing, indulging in each other like seconds are hours and moments never fade.
I lean into his touch, sink into his embrace, and find myself craving more of him.
I want his hands on my body, not just my face.
I want his mouth on my skin, not just my lips.
I want to crawl onto his lap, intertwine our souls, and put my heart in his hands once and for all.
And maybe I’m crazy for that.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathless, he still doesn’t release me. He twines his fingers in my hair and lightly massages my scalp, pressing his forehead against mine as we both catch our breath.
“I want to do that all the time,” he murmurs.
“Me, too,” I whisper. Because I do.
And though it’s late, I don’t want to leave this car. I don’t want to leave him. Not now. Not ever.
“I had fun tonight,” I breathe, afraid of breaking this moment by speaking too loudly.
“So did I,” he says, also keeping his voice quiet. “The best time, actually. Nothing else compares.”
I level him with a look. “Nothing? Not graduating high school or getting into college or scoring that crazy touchdown everyone’s obsessed with?”
He grins, eyes sparkling, and laughs a little. “Nope.”
“Uh huh. I find that hard to believe.”
“Why? My life’s better with you in it. There’s no competition.”
I’m stunned to silence, and he takes that as an opportunity to lean forward and give me a chaste kiss on the lips. I make a noise of protest when he pulls away too quickly, and he beams like I just gifted him the best present in the world.
“Normally I would charm my way inside your apartment,” he begins, and my emotions wrestle between disappointment and relief as I wait for him to continue, “but we’re due for the godforsaken eight a.m. in less than nine hours, and I haven’t done the homework yet.”
My brows hike up. “Wes! You haven’t?”
His smile turns sheepish. “It’s fine, Ives. I’ll do it when I get back.”
“Okay, well, text me if you need help.”
“I’ll text you even if I don’t.”
I grin at that. I can’t help it. He kisses me one more time before I step out into the crisp night air, marveling at the turn this night has taken.
I stepped into the rink miserable, but left the place glowing, and Wes had everything to do with that.
Sure, my insecurities didn’t magically vanish, but they feel a bit more manageable now that I know Wes missed me as much as I missed him.
You bought yourself some time, at least, says that cynical voice in my head, but I won’t let it ruin this moment.
When his car drives away, I’m still smiling.