Page 45 of Eight Days of Christmas
“How’s your ex?” he said. “Harrison, was it?”
Isabella glared at him again. She was already pissed about all of this with her mom and now he was going to bring up Harrison? “I wouldn’t know. Haven’t talked to him.”
He raised his hands in defense. “Just asking. Jeez.”
A moment passed, and she finally loosened the last knot and began tightening her laces.
“You never called him?” Leo’s voice came out softer than it had any right to be.
She wrapped the laces around the ankles of her skates over and over a few times before tying them in the front. “I don’t know why it bothers you if I call him or not. We’re not together.”
Leo’s face hardened. “I know we’re not together. We haven’t been together in years. I was just trying to give you space to talk in case you needed to vent.”
She couldn’t do this. Not right now. Kind Leo was even worse for her brain than Sexy Leo. He made her want to curl against him and cry. Let it all out. But there was a lot to get out. Things Leo wouldn’t understand, let alone believe.
Isabella stood, shakily, bracing her palms on the bench. “I meant me and Harrison. He and I aren’t together.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat, eyes focused on his perfect lacing technique. “I knew that.”
It was mean, but she didn’t know what else to say. She and Leo had gotten far too comfortable last night. Not as comfy as they’d gotten in the rental car, but last night was a different level. A different kind of close. Things with him could be too easy if she let them. Too easy until he required an explanation again, and she knew that time would come.
Isabella opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it, pushing away from the bench instead. She had to get away from him and those tender eyes or any restraint she’d summoned would evaporate.
Her body swayed backward before she jerked herself forward and caught her balance. She swallowed and hobbled a few steps. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me,” she said over her shoulder, “I have some skating to do.”
Leo smirked, rubbing at his beard. “Good luck with that.”
Outwardly, she rolled her eyes, but inwardly, her stomach coiled with nervous energy. She knew she’d need it. She hadn’t skated in what felt like eons.
She reached the ice, waiting for a wide clearing of people before pushing off the toe pick with a gentle ease. Her legs were stiff, her knees curving inward, but so far, so good. If she just took it slow, she’d be fine. She made it an entire way around the rink without falling. She could do this.
But then Ava skated up behind her, bumped into her hip, and Isabella lost her balance. She stumbled forward, landing hard on her knees.
“Ouch! Son of a—”
“Sorry, Auntie Izzy.”
Isabella exhaled a shaky breath. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” She pushed herself up onto the toe pick and used her palms as leverage, the cold, rough ice biting into her skin.
And then Ava was gone—skating off in a flash as if a zombie chased after her. Once Isabella got back on her feet, she hedged toward the side of the rink. It would be safer on the outskirts with the other mediocre skaters rather than close to the middle where the pros skated.
Shuffling her feet, she managed to make it to the outside lane, but when she got there, she regretted her decision. Small children clung to the wall while older skaters wobbled and fell. The so-called tourists and out-of-towners could be picked out easily. Crap, maybe Mom was right. Isabellawasan out-of-towner and had no business being out on the rink.
But no, she wasn’t going to give up so easily. She was no quitter. There had to be some technique cemented in her body memory, didn’t there?
“C’mon, Izzy,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s just like riding a bike.”
“That’s a lie.”
The deep timbre of Leo’s voice slid under her skin, sending warmth zipping through her bones. She sucked in a breath and turned around.
“Perfect,” she said on exhale.
Now he was going to see her fail.
Leo skated past her, then spun and skated backward.
“Why are you always here?” She groaned. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Work to do, maybe?”
