Page 97 of Wildest Dreams

“Oh my God, just hurry up already,” I wheeze, instantly screaming as my skates slip into a horizontal split, the guys’ hockey puck hurtling towards one of my boots, making Connell lose his balance behind me.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he rasps.

“What do you mean ‘shit, shit, shit’?!” I yell.

But then he’s falling backwards and dragging me down with him, his whole body shaking with laughter as I thump down on top of him.

To his credit he does cup his hand around the back of my head to make sure that I don’t hit it while we fall, but it’s not enough to stop me from shoving off of him and whacking him relentlessly on his stupid biceps, making him laugh harder as he holds up his forearms trying to protect himself.

“You – big – freaking – klutz!” I shout, yelping when he manages to wrangle my wrists and stop my fight.

“Hey, you were the one who started breaking out into a cheer routine,” he drawls, grinning when I give him a withering glare, and releasing one of my hands because he can tell that I want to give him another smack again.

I give him a nice little whack across the shoulder and he throws himself onto his side, grinning as he groans and pretends like I’ve maimed him.

I fight my smile for as long as I can but then I finally let my dimples pop, rolling my eyes. He instantly stops his injury routine and he gives me that special twin grin that telepathically lets me know that he’s sorry, that he’s glad that I’m okay, and that he wouldn’t let anything bad actually happen to me, all without saying a single word.

He heaves himself up onto his blades with all the grace of a Mack truck, and then holds his palms down to me so that I can slap my hands in his and let him haul me up.

As soon as I’m back on my feet, feeling the slip of the ice beneath me, all of my fears come rushing back.

It’s not that I don’t want to be on the ice with everyone else – it’s that I just can’t skate.

I glance at the stands and see that the only two people who are currently off the ice are Caden, whose hair is dripping with sweat and cheeks are ruddy after so many hours of play, and Winter, who is sat on her boyfriend’s lap, her back to his chest, as he squeezes her firmly with his forearms and murmurs something into her ear.

Winter is the only person who hasn’t stepped foot on the ice yet but her little dimpled smile hasn’t wavered for one single second.

I settle my blades on the ice, brow creased as I stare at the scuffed up rented boots, and I take a tiny swallow as I try to slide one of my feet towards Connell.

I shake my head, my cheeks burning red.

“It’s no use,” I whisper. “I think it would be better if you just, like, continue to push me toward the edge of the rink so that I can–”

“Hey man.”

A deep voice sounds out behind me and I freeze on my already unmoving legs.

A big tan hand reaches around me to slap palms with Connell.

I blink at the thick tendons in the wrist, following it with my eyes as those fingers clamp down over my shoulder, the position casual but the grip firm. Possessive.

Connell gives Tanner a full-watt smile of his own before glancing down into my eyes and laughing gently at the look on my face. I look pointedly at the enormous hand currently holding me in place but Connell just smiles and shakes his head, giving me a little pinch on the chin for good measure.

I slap his hand away before looking down at my skates again, practically cracking the ice with how tensely I’m standing in them.

After the…situationthat happened with Tanner yesterday – wherein he ended up kissing the sense out of me up against the lake house, and he told me that maybe I could join them at the rink today – I didn’t really think that I would actually end up on the ice. I thought thattheywould be playing hockey andIwould be watching hot guys bash into each other for a few hours. I didn’t want him to see how bad I am at this, and the realisationthat he already has makes me swallow thickly, blinking the stinging sensation away from my eyes.

Connell gives my free shoulder a squeeze of his own before looking over my head and asking, “Think you can teach her?”

Sparks sputter around my temples as I stare up at Connell, horrified.

“I’m sorry, what?” I croak out.

I smack my palm against my forehead because I’m so freaking embarrassed, only for Tanner’s hand to quickly reach around me, clasp my wrist, and force it away from my face.

“Connell, you can’t just ask guys on my behalf to teach me how to skate! I don’t even want to learn how to skate,” I tell him, really panicking now.

“Ash, you’re going to be amazing,” Connell says kindly, although I can barely focus on his words as Tanner’s broad chest starts slowly pressing up behind me. “Just work through your fear. And Tanner’s, like, half-alright at skating so I’m sure that he can teach you the basics.”

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