Page 24 of Tye
“Yeah. I think that shit haunts Uncle Carter. He doesn’t have answers to how she died, and worse, the fact she might have been murdered lingers over him. Uncle Carter loved her so damn much it hurts to see him. He’s a shadow of what he once was,” Demi whispered as her thoughts drifted to her uncle.
I didn’t want to see Demi sad. My hand rubbed her back, and I wrapped my fingers in a lock of her hair and tugged.
“Do you skate?” I asked as she looked up at me.
“Hell no! I’d end up on my ass,” Demi replied with a small laugh.
“No time like the present to learn,” I retorted, and her eyes widened.
“You are injured!”
“Demi, I can skate blindfolded, come on. We have skates in all sizes here,” I said, grabbing her hand and tugging her. I started to shuffle away, pulling her behind me.
“Ice, you’re crazy! It’s nearly midnight, and we should be in bed,” she cried.
“Chicken. Bock-bock, chicken!”
“I am not!” Demi exclaimed indignantly.
I yanked her to where the skates are kept and picked up my pair.
“What’s your size?” I asked.
“Six. This is madness!”
“Moores aren’t the only ones with a monopoly on crazy,” I replied and grabbed a set of size sixes and a spare pair of clean socks.
“Put those on, and you’ll have to help me,” I stated as I motioned at my broken arm.
“This is a bad idea. You could fall. No, you will. I have zero balance, and you have a concussion!” Demi kept arguing with me, which I was enjoying.
“Trust me.”
That gave Demi pause for thought. “I don’t know you.”
“From the roughly one hour we’ve spent together, plus the time over dinner, do you think I’d hurt myself?”
“No.”
“Then, based on those two hours, trust me,” I teased.
“Insane,” Demi muttered, and I grinned. I was sure that comment was aimed at me.
I toed off my boots, slipped my feet into my skates, and looked at her. “Can you tie them?”
Still complaining about my level of sanity, Demi bent down and tied my skates.
Shit, it felt good to have them on.
Demi put hers on and stood up, wobbling. I grabbed a pad and hit a button, and music came from the speakers. With a frown, I brought up the playlist and changed it.
“Sorry, Peyton must have been practising,” I said, chuckling as ‘Let it Go’ turned into Queen’s ‘Under Pressure’.
Demi rolled her eyes at the song choice, making me laugh again.
“Keep laughing, asshole,” she muttered as she flailed her arms to keep her balance. We weren’t even on the ice yet.
“Bend your knees slightly, that’s better,” I instructed, trying to help. I stepped on and instantly felt at home. I skated a few circles as Demi watched wide-eyed, and then I glided over to her.