Page 48 of Faking the Goal

Kentaro is already waiting on the ice.

"Are you coming?"

"I'm getting there. Some of us weren't born with hockey skates attached to our feet."

I reach the opening and grip the boards before carefully putting one skate onto the ice.

The second I shift my weight onto it, my foot slips forward.

"Shit!"

My other foot follows, and I barely have time to panic before Kentaro catches me around the waist and pulls me upright.

"Oh my God." I grab onto his arm with both hands. "Oh my fucking God."

"Relax. I've got you."

"Easy for you to say. Your feet aren't actively trying to kill you."

He keeps one arm around my waist until I'm steady enough to stand, although stand is being generous considering most of my weight is currently attached to him.

His brows pull together. "You really don't know how to skate?"

I slowly turn my head toward him.

"What gave it away? The screaming or the part where I almost cracked my skull open thirty seconds in?"

His mouth twitches.

I narrow my eyes. "Did you just smile?"

"No."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"Holy shit, you totally did."

"Taylor."

"Sorry. I'm just surprised your face can do that."

Whatever almost-smile I caught disappears as he reaches for my hands.

"Give me these."

I let him take them, and he slowly moves backward, guiding me farther onto the ice.

"Keep your knees bent a little."

"They are bent."

"They're locked."

"That's because I'm terrified."

"You're not going to fall."