Page 28 of Boots & Scars

Everly didn't respond immediately. She simply resumed skating beside me, her movements more fluid now, less hesitant. As we glided over the ice together, an uneasy truce seemed to settle between us.

The cold air bit at my face, but it felt different this time—less harsh somehow. Maybe it was because of her presence or maybe because for once someone had stood up to me without backing down or running away.

"Why do you keep coming back here?" I asked abruptly.

Everly glanced at me, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Because I want to learn," she replied simply.

I scoffed but didn't push further. Instead, we continued skating in silence—each lost in our own thoughts yet somehow connected by that brief exchange.

For once in a long time, I felt something other than anger or resentment—a flicker of curiosity about this sheltered girl who refused to be intimidated by me.

9

Everly

Stepping out of the lecture hall, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders. The final exam had been grueling, but now it was over. A beautiful day greeted me, with the sun casting warm rays that danced across the campus lawns. I couldn’t help but smile as I made my way down the path.

The familiar route to Pandora's Box seemed more vibrant today. Trees swayed gently in the breeze, and students lounged on the grass, their laughter echoing in the air. It felt like everything was celebrating with me.

I passed a group of friends tossing a frisbee. One of them waved, and I returned it with a grin. My upbringing hadn’t afforded me many opportunities for such carefree interactions, but moments like these were becoming more frequent.

I practically skipped into the rink. The chill of the air kissed my cheeks. Everything felt electric; finals were over, and I was free. I spotted Cooper by the skate counter, his scarred face brooding as always.

"You have no goddamn right being this happy," he muttered as I approached.

I beamed at him. "Not even you can drag me down to your level of misery, Coop. I'm done with finals."

"Coop?" His eyebrow arched, irritation flickering in his eyes. "I thought I told you only my friends call me that."

"Sorry," I replied, trying to suppress my grin. "Mr. Cooper."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t put much effort into it. Without asking, he handed me a pair of skates.

"Thanks," I said, taking them from him and finding a nearby bench.

I sat down and began to lace them up, humming softly to myself.

"You're doing it wrong," Cooper said, his voice cutting through my contentment like a knife.

I glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"The laces." He pointed at my skates with a grunt of frustration. "You're going to trip yourself if you keep doing it that way."

“I did it exactly how you showed me to yesterday.” I looked down at my skates, confused. "What's wrong with the way I'm doing it?"

Cooper sighed, his exasperation clear. "Here, let me show you."

He knelt down in front of me and took the laces in his hands. His fingers moved deftly, undoing my clumsy knots and retying them with practiced precision.

"I swear, you're doing this on purpose," he groused.

"Or maybe you just like helping me on your knees," I replied.

My breath caught in my throat as Cooper's gaze locked with mine. His lips curved into a smirk that sent shivers down my spine.

"You know," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "if I didn't know how innocent you were, I'd warn you to be careful withwhat comes out of your mouth just as much as I'd warn you about what you put in it."

I furrowed my brows, confusion etched on my face. "What are you talking about?"

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