Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
We push through the heavy doors into the chilled air. I inhale a lungful as the scent of the ice hits me full force, and another wave of nostalgia crashes over me. All the times that Wolf, Miles, and I were dropped off at the rink near our house for open skate push in at the edges of my brain. We spent so many hours fooling around at the arena. The boys would shoot on goal while I twirled around and pretended to be the next Gracie Gold.
We walk around the curve of the ice to where the locker rooms are situated. He points to a bench shoved up against the wall. “Why don’t you sit there and change.”
It never occurs to me not to follow the directive. Once I drop onto the bench, he hunkers down before picking up my foot and slipping off one shoe. A million goose bumps prickle along my arms as his thumb slides across the arch of my foot.
Startled by the physical contact along with my reaction, I whisper, “What are you doing?”
He flicks a glance up at me. The second our gazes collide, my belly hollows out. “Helping with your skates.”
“I’m more than capable of doing it myself.” My voice comes out sounding raspy as if I’m being strangled from the inside out.
With a shrug, he slips off the second one and loosens the worn laces of the skates before carefully working it onto my foot. “Never said you couldn’t.”
My mouth dries as he laces up the second skate. Then he picks up my shoes and straightens to his full height before taking a step in retreat.
My brows draw together as I watch him. “Where are you going?”
He jerks his head to the left. “To the locker room to grab my skates.”
“Why are you taking my shoes?”
His lips quirk at the corners. “Just making sure you don’t take off on me.”
“Seriously?”
The playful look disappears as his stare intensifies. “As a heart attack.”
Unsure what to do with myself, I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not going to leave. You can put them back now.”
“Nope.” He gives them a little shake. “We’ll just consider this insurance. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Before I can argue, he swings around and heads to the locker room, pushing through the metal door and disappearing inside. I stare at it for a moment or two before glancing at the ice. There’s an older couple holding hands and a woman with a small child wearing snowpants who’s using what looks like a chair made out of PVC pipes. A smile springs to my lips as I watch him push the chair across the smooth surface, chasing the lady. At the other end of the rink is a blonde, probably around our age.
There’s a natural grace about her movements that tells me that she’s had years of training. I used to pretend I was Gracie Gold. This girl actually resembles her in the ability department. She circles the ice before leaping into a jump and then spinning so fast I wonder how she doesn’t get dizzy. She’s a pleasure to watch, and I lose myself in the flowing movements.
“All set?”
Startled from my thoughts, I find Wolf standing in front of me, looking taller than before on skates. I have to crane my neck even more to meet his steady gaze.
I rise to my feet. When I wobble, my arms spring out in an effort to steady myself so I don’t go down like a ton of bricks. Wolf’s hands lock around my ribcage to hold me in place. Even though there’s a few layers of clothing to separate his palms from my skin, awareness shoots through me as his face hovers inches from mine.
It wouldn’t take much to close the—
As soon as that sly thought invades my brain, I jerk back and nearly stumble. His fingers tighten around me.
Electricity crackles in the air that surrounds us.
“You good?”
“Yup. Just not used to this. It’s been a while.” I clear my throat and glance away from the intensity that fills his eyes and blurt, “See? I’m still here. I didn’t take off.”
“I would have chased you down if you did.”
The dark promise in his voice has my attention snapping back to his. A quick glance at his eyes tells me that he’s not joking. Possessiveness fills them. It’s the same look I noticed the night after the game when he showed up at the bar. I’ve tried so hard not to think about what happened in the alleyway after my shift.
Unfortunately, it's been replaying in my brain on a constant loop.
That’s all it takes for butterflies to explode at the bottom of my belly and wing their way to life.
“Ready?”
I jerk my head into a nod, all the while pretending that his comments haven’t set fire to something deep inside me. “As I’ll ever be.”