Page 101 of Older

“Everything comes with practice,” he said. “It took you months to gain the upper hand with Coach.”

My stomach fluttered in response as my brain dredged up and sifted through the double meaning. “I guess.”

“I miss you during sessions, by the way. I feel like Coach dropped you prematurely.”

“He taught me everything I need to know.”

“Hardly.” He frowned at that, brows etched with dubiety. “When it comes to keeping yourself alive, the lessons are infinite.”

I swallowed. “Self-preservation can be found in a lot of ways. It isn’t always black and white.”

A beat of silence rolled by as Scotty chewed on my reply and swallowed it down in fragments. “Yeah,” he murmured, loosening his grip on my hand. “Suppose you’re right.”

As we circled the rink and neared the exit passage, I caught a familiar flash of disheveled dark hair and broad shoulders. But we’d skated by too fast, so I had to twist around to get another look. Sure enough, Reed stood near the opening, his hands stuffed into slate-gray denim pockets, and two stony eyes locked on me. We did another lap, then another, and every time we rolled by him, the look on his face softened, his gaze shimmering with something akin to misery.

Making a final round, I released Scotty’s hand and attempted to make my way toward the exit. “I’m going to grab some water.”

And then I was on my ass.

Both feet flew up in front of me like my skates were attached to an invisible string held by a puppet master cackling evilly from above, and I landed hard. Pain shot up my tailbone, only overpowered by the hurricane of embarrassment that rippled through me in waves.

Dammit.

When I lifted my chin, Reed was standing over me. I could see Scotty skating toward me in my periphery, but my focus was on Reed and the hand he was extending to help me up.

He reached.

We clasped.

I melted.

Long, warm fingers wrapped around my palm as he hauled me up before Scotty could come to my rescue. My feet skidded in every direction, forgetting their primary purpose of how to be feet, and I latched on to Reed’s biceps to keep me steady. Both of his arms wrapped around me until I found sweet relief in balance, while my fingers curled into his hard muscle.

His hold loosened with every passing second. “You okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded. “Yep. Aside from the bruises on my butt and ego…though, I’m not sure which one hurts worse.” My awkward chuckle eased through the tension between us as Reed guided me toward the exit and I grabbed onto the half-wall for stability.

Scotty was by my side in an instant. “Whoa, you good?”

“Fabulous.” I rubbed my backside and made a precarious trek over to a nearby bench. Scotty carried my shoes over to me while I took a breath and watched from the corner of my eye as Tara came bounding over to her father with a full-fledged grin.

Reed was right beside me, facing the rink and smelling like cedar and sin, as Tara flung herself into his arms and he teetered back as he caught her.

“Hey, Squirt,” he said through an oof and a chuckle.

“Have you seen Mom yet?”

“She’s headed this way.”

I glanced over my shoulder to take in the scene. Whitney was still holding on to the edge of the rink as she slowly made her way toward the exit where Reed and Tara stood. “Reed,” she acknowledged, sounding winded. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Tara invited me.”

“Huh.” She nodded, a partial smile in place. “Good to see you. It’s been a while since you’ve been by the house.”

My cheeks flared with heat as I pretended to be fully absorbed in roller skate laces.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy.” He cleared his throat, tousling his hair.