Page 64 of With the Assist

The Revere Center is bigger than I thought. Having only seen it on TV or from the street, I wasn’t expecting to feel so small walking through it completely empty. It’s like I’ve stepped into something not meant for outsiders.

“This is insane,” I whisper.

Nathan grins over his shoulder like he’s been waiting for that reaction. “Wait until you see it with the ice lit.”

After spending time at home, I had planned to keep our workout today strictly professional. Keeping my distance from him was the only choice. The kiss had played on repeat far too often for me to let it happen again.

We were going to work out, make small talk, and then go our separate ways. Instead, I found myself wanting to open up to him about my family and drag the workout on longer. It’s stupid.

And because I’m stupid, now I’m here. Spending time with Nathan outside of the arrangement. This isn’t training, and it’s not fake dating. So, what the hell is it?

A man pushing a wide mop bucket looks up as we pass.

“Morning, Nate.”

“Morning, Cal,” Nathan says easily. “How’s your knee?”

Cal snorts. “Still attached.”

Nathan laughs, claps him on the shoulder like they’ve known each other forever, and keeps walking.

I glance back. “You know his name.”

“He’s been here longer than I have.”

That’s not the Nathan most people see. The one who knows the custodial staff well enough to ask about their knee. No, that Nathan is reserved only for the people who really know him. Warmth spreads through me as I realize I’m becoming one of them.

He moves through this place as if it belongs to him, not in an entitled way, but in a familiar way. It makes sense that he’d know this arena like the back of his hand, but it’s also kind of endearing.

A heavy door swings open, and he gestures for me to go inside. The rink opens up in front of us, smooth and untouched, the surface glowing faintly under the lights. There is no music or fans, just the faint hum of the refrigeration system beneath the ice.

It’s beautiful.

Nathan studies my face instead of the rink. “Told you.”

Before I can say anything else, he disappears down the hallway toward the locker rooms. I fold my arms and try not to look like I’m trespassing. Without Nathan by my side, I’m even more convinced I shouldn’t be here.

This place must sound crazy when it’s packed with fans. Every sound echoes, and there’s nowhere for it to escape. I spin in a circle, taking it all in until a noise in the corner makes me jump. Nathan reappears with two pairs of skates slung over his shoulder.

I blink. My gaze flicks from his shy smile to the extra pair of skates in his hand.

He tosses them gently toward me. “They should fit.”

I stare down at them. They’re clean, maybe even brand new.

Suspicion creeps in. “When did you get these?”

He drops onto the bench, already unlacing his shoes. “After our lunch date.”

“You’re kidding.”

He shakes his head, focused on threading the laces through his fingers. “Figured if I asked enough times, you might eventually say yes.”

I like the idea of that far too much.

“You bought me skates,” I say, sitting down across from him.

“I bought a size that might fit you,” he corrects. “Very different.”