Page 75 of Cinder
Remi stands near the boards with Zela still tucked against her chest, laughing softly while Max shuffles determinedly along, holding Colt’s gloved hand.
Elle skates past us with determined concentration, tongue poking out slightly as she navigates a careful curve. She looks steadier and much more professional than I ever will.
Evan shifts behind me, repositioning so he’s slightly to my side instead of directly behind me.
“Okay,” he says. “Again.”
His hand stays at my back, and the other drops from my waist but hovers close enough that I know he’ll catch me.
I push again, and this time, my skate glides forward properly.
“There you go,” he says quietly.
I grin before I can stop myself. “I’m practically Olympic material.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
I push and glide, again and again. Each time, he gives me a little more space, and each time, I feel the absence of his hand where I want it.
On the fourth attempt, I wobble hard to the left, and instinct takes over. I grab fistfuls of his hoodie without thinking, but he plants his weight and absorbs it.
For a second, I’m pressed fully against him, breath coming faster than it should for something this slow. His hand slides back to my waist, gripping lightly.
“Told you I wouldn’t let you fall,” he says, and that damn dimple returns.
My throat goes dry. “You’re very smug for someone in rental skates.”
“They’re not rental.”
“Oh, sorry. They’repersonalice knives. Much less alarming.”
His mouth curves slightly deeper, and I don’t let go of his jacket right away.
Mason glides past us backward, holding Frankie’s hands to tug her along. “Prince, you teaching or proposing?”
“Keep skating,” Evan replies evenly, but his eyes stay on mine.
Across the rink, I see Tucker watching from the boards before he heads for the exit, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder. He doesn’t look back, and I turn back to the ice to push forward again.
This time, Evan lets his hand drop completely, and I glide three full seconds on my own before realizing I’m actually skating solo.
A loud and unfiltered laugh leaves me. “I’m doing it!”
“You’re doin’ it.”
He watches me with that same quiet pride I’ve only ever seen him give Elle, and I feel the soft recalibration under my ribs.
Dangerous, probably. But I let it stay anyway.
Chapter eleven
You fill the cracks
Evan
The house is quiet, but the adrenaline lingers loudly in my bones long after the rink lights fade. We have a quick meal when we get home, and I carry Elle to her bedroom half-asleep, her cheek pressed to my shoulder, scarf still looped loosely around her neck. She smells like cold air and sugar and that strawberry shampoo Penny’s started buying her.
By the time she’s in her pjs and been convinced to brush her teeth, I ease her into bed and pull the blanket up under her chin, and she’s out like a light.
