Chapter 19 Alex #2
“Soooo . . . ” I said, too brightly. “Roller derby. Is that . . . something you think you’d want to do?”
Her head snapped up at the question.
“Yes.”
The answer left her mouth so fast it startled both of us.
She blinked, cheeks warming. “I mean— yes. I’d love to. But I . . . I’m not sure I can.”
I leaned against the wall, turning toward her. “Why not?”
She bit her lip, tucking her hair behind her ear in that way that made my brain short-circuit.
“I’m not tough like Belle,” she murmured. “Or a good skater like Mel. And I wouldn’t know what to do. Or who to be.” A soft, vulnerable laugh. “I’m not . . . derby material.”
“Hey.” I shook my head, earnest now. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
She lifted her eyes, uncertain.
I swallowed, feeling old memories stir. “I watched Becca go from a quiet, mousy girl who never spoke above a whisper to someone who could body-check a grown man into the wall without blinking.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. “Becca? Really?”
I smiled. “Oh yeah. She’s terrifying on wheels. The first time I saw her do a hip-whip, I thought she’d broken the laws of physics.”
That earned me the sweetest laugh. It was soft, surprising, and deeply pleasing.
“If she could do it,” I said gently, “you can too.”
Something flickered across her face then, hope, fear, and longing, all tangled together.
She looked down at her hands. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe.” I nudged her knee lightly with mine. “Definitely.”
“I guess I didn’t realize she was on the team.”
With a little shake of my head, I said, “She’s not anymore. It was something new she tried, but she decided it wasn’t really her thing. Now we just cheer Mel and the rest of the Reapers on in the stands.”
When she looked up again, something new settled in her gaze.
“You know, I saw you at a bout a while back. You were there with Leo. There was something about that night that felt . . . I don’t know magic somehow.”
“Really?” As if on its own, my hand moved to her, my thumb gently caressing her knuckles.
“Yeah, my mother had just sent me on a date that I was not ready to be on. I escaped early, and I saw the building next door. Belle had mentioned I should check it out, so I decided to . . . and I’m really glad I did.”
I just stared at her, hoping she would continue.
“My mom doesn’t understand Ava and her struggles.
She thinks it's a discipline problem and not sensory issues.
I try to advocate for her, but it's exhausting. Then I saw you with Leo, just letting him exist . . . and the powerful women . . . and the accepting atmosphere of it all. I guess I just found myself wanting to be part of that world.”
“And here you are,” I said, squeezing her hand. “You're making it happen.”
When she looked up at me, it was as if I was seeing into her soul. I was hungry for this woman in every way I could imagine. I want to hold her and protect her . . . and ravage her all at the same time.
“I wish I had seen you that night. But I definitely remember the first time I saw you. When you showed up at rehearsal. I was instantly drawn to you.”
I laced our fingers together as we sat there basking in the warmth of the moment. It was all I could do not to kiss her, but she had said she needed to take it slow, so I was taking it at her pace.
“What do ya say? Do you want to get back out there and skate a bit more?”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” she said, rising from the bench.
I tossed our empty plates and skated back onto the rink, the disco lights shimmering overhead.
And God, she shone.
Within minutes, she was flying again, gaining speed, laughing, hair streaming behind her. Every time she soared past me, she’d flash a breathless smile that hit me straight in the ribs.
By the time we started working on a little more backward skating, she’d collected four new bruises and approximately twelve “I swear I’m fine” assurances. But she kept trying. Kept laughing through it. Kept surprising me.
She was . . . incredible.
As the rink clock ticked on, we finally rolled toward the exit side by side, both of us flushed and sweaty and buzzing with endorphins.
She stopped by the front door, cheeks pink, eyes bright.
“I can’t believe how much fun that was,” she said, breathless.
I couldn’t believe how much I didn’t want this night to end.
“Me either,” I admitted softly. “You were amazing.”
She blushed harder, looking down at her skates as if they might offer guidance on what to do with a compliment.
Outside, in the parking lot, a gentle breeze enveloped us as I walked her to her car.
I shifted a little closer.
She lifted her eyes.
And for one suspended heartbeat, everything stilled. Her lips parted. Her breath caught. Her gaze dropped to my mouth and back up again, full of quiet longing she didn’t bother to hide.
It would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to lean in.
I wanted to.
God, I wanted to
So I leaned just close enough for her to feel it . . . but not so close I took her choice away.
“Eleanor,” I whispered, voice barely steady, “can I—”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She jumped, startled, breath breaking like a paper-thin spell.
Her mother’s name lit up the screen.
Of course it did.
She swallowed, apology in her eyes. “I—I should go.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I know.”
But as she turned toward her van, she hesitated — just long enough to look back over her shoulder.
“Tomorrow?” she whispered.
I felt my smile pull wide and helpless.
“Tomorrow.”
She ducked her head and hurried to her van, blonde hair swinging, leaving me standing there in the glow of the rink lights with my heart thundering like a teenager’s.
I locked up the rink exactly as Mel instructed.
And for the first time in a long, long time . . .
. . . I couldn’t wait for morning.