Page 39 of Thin Ice

Noah pauses like he doesn’t want to say it, but I urge him with my eyes.

His gaze tracks down to where Beck’s hand is still on my stomach and then back to me. “About everything.”

My insides flip at the implication, but I need to know more. “Tell me,” I say.

“I’m having a hard time understanding why we couldn’t work everything out on our own. Why didn’t you give me a chance before we ended up here?”

“Breathe, Quinn,” Beck reminds me.

I hadn’t realized I’d stopped until he said it. Air burns my lungs when I take an inhale, and once again, I find the bridge of my nose stinging.

“I gave you chances, Noah.”

“When?”

Anger works its way back into my belly, and I’m certain Beck must be able to feel it against his hand, because it burns with renewed strength.

“You seriously didn’t see?” I ask.

“I’m telling you I didn’t.”

“And that’s the issue—” My voice cracks. “You didn’t see me. You didn’t fucking see me, Noah. I just wanted you to see me.”

A tear drips down my cheek, and I let it fall. Noah’s features tense, then, in the blink of an eye, he’s moving. Beck’s hands drop away when I shift forward in my own chair, getting ready to yell at Noah for running, but instead, he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands grabbing mine.

“I’m sorry, Quinn. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“I need you to be more than sorry.”

“I know.” He kisses my fingers before pressing the backs of my hands to his forehead. I let him, reveling in his touch and attention, something that I’ve craved for so long now.

“Can you tell Noah what it is you need from him, Quinn?” Beck asks.

“To notice me,” I murmur. “To really notice me.”

Noah’s eyes have gone watery, and his expression is pained. “I do, Quinn.”

“Do you?”

“Noah.” Beck places a hand on his shoulder and his other on my back again. At first, Noah tenses, but after a breath, he relaxes, his gaze softening. “Tell Quinn three things you notice about her.”

“How hard you work,” he says without hesitation. “How much you care about your job and our team…about me. I see you watching me skate when you think I’m not looking or checking to make sure I’ve eaten. You’re always checking on me, and I love you for that.”

“Good,” Beck says. “What else?”

“How your blue eyes sparkle like sapphires when you’re happy—which I know hasn’t happened as of late.”

Noah grips my hands tighter.

“And lastly, how determined and committed to us you are, even if I don’t deserve it.”

“Noah—”

“It’s the truth. But I see you, Sunshine, I see how much you care and how much you love. And I’m sorry that I haven’t been looking lately or telling you that I see your care. I’m sorry I didn’t see how much we were struggling or how disconnected we’ve been. But I’m looking now, and I’ve never stopped looking for you in a room. Never.”

Another tear tracks down my cheek, and Noah reaches up to wipe it away. A raven caws overhead, and a heated breeze moves between us, rustling my hair and Noah’s. The air wafts the smell of Beck’s suntan lotion and spice into my nose, the scent that reminded me so much of Noah’s yesterday.

I’d been so focused on Noah’s declarations that I’d forgotten he was touching us both. My husband hasn’t tried to remove the weight of Beck’s hand on his shoulder nor have I shied away from his touch on my back.