Page 103 of These Wicked Hearts

We move slowly. Atlas leads, careful and attentive. His grip on me lightens up the more we’re on the ice. I’m getting used to the feel and find a little ground. “Keep your eyes up.”

“What?”

“You’re staring at your feet.”

“Oh, like you did when you got knocked the fuck out the other night?”

“I didn’t—” His lips purse. “I didn’t get knocked the fuck out. And I was paying attention!”

“Not what I saw.”

With my hands in his, he skates backward in front of me, and I’m not wobbling as much anymore as he guides me. “Do you like this?”

The skating’s whatever, but I like watching him in his element. Atlas is nervous, and awkward, and a little lost most of the time. Here, though, he’s confident, and it’s doing things to my chest.

“It’s better.”

We skate for a bit, and I feel like I’m getting the hang of it.

“See, easy. Look at you.”

“Don’t patronize me. I am a world-famous musician.” I glare at him, but it costs me.

I wobble and nearly fall forward. It happens fast, but Atlas reacts faster, pulling me into his body instead of letting me fall. We collide. His grip is tight and immediate, pressing me against his chest, and my breath stutters.

“You okay?”

I let out a quiet laugh, sliding my hands over his pecs to right myself. “Undecided.”

Our faces are closer than before. Close enough I can see the shift in Atlas’s blue eyes. They slide from my mouth to my eyes.

Something tight pulls at my chest. “Are you always this handsy with beginners?” I smile.

“No.”

“Lucky me.” I swallow, suddenly so aware of everything around us. Atlas grabs my hand, pulling me toward the boards until my back rests against the glass. “What are you doing?”

The space between us disappears. Atlas’s body heat pours into my mine. His hand comes up to cup my jaw. On skates he’s even more imposing. Big and solid. He lifts my jaw and I can’t look away from his eyes.

“I just want someone to love me.”

I swallow, letting his words wrap around me, as I watch those blue eyes track my throat before they lift to mine. “Is this part of your lesson plan?”

A smile breaks onto his lips. “Only for my top students.”

Atlas leans in, his lips soft, testing for a moment before he puts his full weight into it. My grip tightens on his sleeves. I swear he’s holding me upright. I’m so warm right here, in this place that should make me cold. His soft touch sends heat pouring through me.

When he releases me, I let out a low breath. Atlas’s forehead rests briefly against mine.

“I just want someone to love me.”

A dangerous thought slips into my brain before I can shove it away.

What if I wanted that someone to be me?

TWENTY-FOUR

Gage