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“Here goes nothing,” I said to no one. But that wasn’t unusual. I talked to myself a lot, given how many hours there were with no one to talk to.
Gripping the wall with both hands, I stepped out tentatively onto the ice, expecting my skates to fly out from under me.
But they didn’t.
Instead, I found myself gliding forward on the ice, my hand still catching the wall over and over until I realized…I knew what I was doing.
I was good at this, actually.
Somewhere in my past life, I had learned how to skate.
And now I was flying across the ice. My hair flew back, the chilly breeze on my skin feeling invigorating. It felt as if I could take flight.
I let out a surprised, bubbly laugh that I couldn’t hold back.
I knew something new about myself: the girl I’d been could skate.
And the girl I was now loved to skate too.
I lost myself in the feeling of flying over the ice, but then I felt someone watching me.
It startled me out of my reverie, and I looked up to realize a man was leaning against the rink windows, watching me. He’d paused against the glass, one powerful, tattooed arm braced over his head. He had dark hair, and he stared at me with eyes that felt penetrating from this distance.
Did he know me?
There was something about the way he stared at me that felt electric.
I started to skate toward him, feeling as if there was some sort of magnetic pull between the two of us. Then I realized I was being awkward. He might have been someone who worked on hiring for the bar, curious about my application.
I was so eager for someone to recognize me, maybe I was imagining things.
He turned and walked away, his t-shirt hugging his broad shoulders, big biceps, the lean taper of his waist. He must be cold, but he didn’t seem to show it.
“Mom!” a kid near me called, skating past me eagerly. He stopped in disappointment and turned around, his skates sending a spray of ice into the air. “He’s gone.”
Who washe?
“You were lucky to catch a glimpse of him, honey.” A woman skated up to meet him and tousled his hair. “Maybe another time.”
The affection between the two of them, so casual when she ruffled his hair, left me wondering what my own parents had been like.
Were they alive out there somewhere?
The thought felt cold and heavy, and I started to skate again. For once, the weight fell away, and I was just gliding over the ice, listening to the satisfying hushed sound of my skates.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had looked at me.
3
Fucking hell.
I’d never get over her.
I watched her from the shadowed entry across the rink, my heart pounding with a mixture of longing…and lust. It felt like I could breathe after years of fucking suffocation.
Kennedy glided gracefully across the ice, her every move a testament to the beauty that had drawn me to her years ago. She was here, right in front of me.
Finally.
