Jeremy moves so he’s not in my way but stays close in case I need him. I can picture him doing the same with his niece and nephew. Quietly offering support but giving enough space for them to step out on their own, even if they end up falling on their faces.
I hold my arms out like I’m on a tight rope. My ankles start to fold outward, so I press my thighs together. If I can just make it to the wall...
I take tiny baby steps, shuffling forward. At this rate, it will take all night to get to the ice.
Jeremy chuckles, but when I look at him, he’s managed to swallow his smile.
“What are you laughing at?” I fake scowl.
He holds up his hands, all innocence. “I’m not laughing.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I do love your penguin impersonation, though.” Even though his lips are in a straight line, his eyes are laughing.
I plant my hands on my hips. I don’t know what’s come over me. Maybe it’s the way Jeremy has put me at ease time and again tonight, but I feel ... different. I don’t know what adjective to use to describe the energy coursing through my veins like they’ve become electrical wires. Daring? Flirty? How does a person name something they’ve never experienced before? All I know is I want to vocalize things I would normally keep locked inside my head.
But Jeremy’s made me feel safe all night. A small measure of courage has managed to break free of the doubts andwhat ifs inmy brain to make me wonder what would happen if I let out a little of the dialogue I keep to myself. How would he respond?
I tilt my chin up, purse my lips. “I’ve at least made it three feet. You’re still standing where you started.”
His mouth quirks to the side, humor alight in the amber flecks in his eyes. In one step, he moves farther than my ten got me.
“Hey, are you two ever getting on the ice?” Keri’s on the other side of the half wall, her cheeks and nose red.
Jeremy shakes his head but offers me his hand a second time. “What do you say? Ready to join them?”
Am I ready? The unknown of what accepting his hand means scares me, but I don’t want to be frozen by my own inhibitions any longer. Isn’t that why I made an appointment with a counselor in the first place?
I slide my hand into his and hold on. Peeking up at him, I give a small grin.
Jeremy wears an odd expression on his face. I want to ask him about it, but whatever courage I possessed was only fleeting and has vanished faster than a white rabbit in a magic act.
He helps me to the door in the half wall, then opens it so I can step over the lip and onto the shiny ice on the other side. Using the wall for support, I plant my feet on the frozen water. Stiff-legged, I pull myself forward hand-over-hand along the wall. A little girl who looks no older than five breezes past me. I pitch forward. Back. Throw myself at the wall.
This was a bad idea. If I don’t get off the ice, the night is going to end with me in the emergency room.
Jeremy glides past, then spins so he’s facing me, skating backward.
“Show-off.”
“Practice. I played hockey growing up.”
“Nice.” I rotate my body. I’ll be a salmon swimming upstream, but I’m determined to get back to that door and off this dangerous ice.
Jeremy skates around me and blocks my escape route. I can’t go around him because there’s no way I’m letting go of the wall keeping me upright. That would be my death sentence for sure.
He frowns. “Where are you going?”
“This was a bad idea. I don’t know how to skate.”
“You’ll never learn if you don’t try. Come on. I’ll teach you.” His body is leaning toward me, his hand resting right beside mine. His gaze is intent. Invested. As if me trying this seemingly insignificant thing means more than the act of gliding across the ice.
“Okay.” I say yes because I’m unable to give any other answer. Not when Jeremy is looking at me the way he is now.
His shoulders relax, and his face softens. “Good.” He skates in a half circle around me, and I turn so I’m facing the flow of traffic again. “The first thing you have to do is let go of the wall.”
My fingers tighten on reflex. “I don’t think I can.”
