Chapter 37 Alex
ALEX
Watching Eleanor skate felt like watching someone you loved walk into a storm.
You didn’t get to do anything but stand there and hope she knew how strong she was.
Belle skated to the center of the rink, clipboard in hand. “Okay, listen up!” she called. “We’re going to put our newbies in for a small bout so we can see how you do in real play.”
Eleanor’s head snapped up. For a heartbeat, she just stared. Then her whole face lit up, bright and disbelieving and beautiful. I watched her go, heart in my throat, knowing I was never going to stop cheering for her.
The bout started fast and loud.
I leaned forward on the bench, elbows on my knees, eyes glued to Eleanor as she took her place on the track. The whistle blew, and suddenly everything was motion, bodies colliding, skates carving the floor, the sharp crack of pads hitting pads.
Belle came at her hard.
Too hard.
I hated it.
Eleanor went down under the hit, skidding to the floor, and my heart slammed into my ribs. Mel skated right past her, focused and ruthless, the way good captains were. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to stand up and yell like some unhinged hockey dad.
Then Eleanor pushed herself up. No hesitation. No looking around for permission. She got up and kept going.
A smile broke across my face, pride blooming hot and fierce in my chest. She wasn’t fragile. She was resilient. She fell, and she rose, and she didn’t stop.
That was who she was.
When the whistle finally blew, ending the bout, the women circled up, laughing and breathing hard. Mel skated to the center again, hands on her hips.
“Alright,” she called. “That’s it for tonight.”
Eleanor made her way back to me, sweaty and flushed, moving just a little slower now. Her helmet was off, hair plastered to her temples, and she looked wrecked in the most beautiful way.
She smiled at me, soft and tired. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I said, already scanning her for injuries.
She shifted her weight, wincing just a bit. “So . . . can we postpone our date?”
My mouth fell open. “What?”
She laughed and immediately amended, “Not cancel. Just—maybe not tonight?”
Every instinct in me screamed nope. I did not want less time with her. I wanted more. All of it.
Then she reached back and rubbed her ass with a grimace. “But maybe I could shower at your place and not go anywhere? And do you have ibuprofen?”
I grinned.
“Oh,” I said, standing up and taking her bag from her shoulder. “I’ve got ibuprofen. And ice packs. And a couch you can fall asleep on if you want.”
She smiled back at me, relief written all over her face.
I slung her bag over my shoulder and steered us toward the door. “Come on. I’ve got you.”
Tonight wasn’t about taking her out. It was about taking care of her.
As I took her bag and walked her to the car, I kept thinking that I didn’t want to cancel tonight. There was no reason I couldn’t bring the date to the house. Going on a ‘date’ could mean lots of different things.
I opened the door and helped her ease into the car. I cringed for her as she tenderly sat down.
“I’ll get used to this, right?” she asked as she winced.
“You were spectacular,” I said, dropping a quick kiss on her mouth before shutting the door and heading over to my side of the car. My mind was already going a mile a minute, figuring out how to change everything around so tonight could be just as special from the quiet of my couch.
I could do it.