Page 22 of Hard to Judge

Hota leans forward and brushes his lips across my forehead. “It’s the least I can do for the woman trying to get me killed.”

“Ah, I would never.”

He groans. “We’ll see.”

Arlo finishes paying and making the worker’s day by merely speaking to him.

“Thank you.” I smile.

He puts his wallet away, and then leans down, placing a kiss on my forehead much like Hota had a moment ago. “Let’s get this guy on the ice before he chickens out.”

Arlo maneuvers us through the benches to a free one. While we sit and lace up our skates, I’m comforted by the warmth flowing from either side of me. It’s not just physical warmth, though they block the wind from reaching me. It’s the subtle murmurs, smiles, and even gentle curses coming from both of them.

I tie my last knot first and stand. Arlo finishes a few seconds after and then joins me. Hota twirls the last knot. He takes a deep breath that moves his whole chest. “At least I have really good insurance.”

“We’ll take care of you.” Arlo holds out his hand to his friend.

Hota’s wide jaw flexes. His nostrils flare, and his gaze narrows on five thick fingers and a palm more calloused than most businessmen.

Memories of the first time Arlo offered his hand to me come flooding back. My heart goes warm and gooey. His skin, his touch, is everything to me. Then sadness sneaks in.

They’ve known each other for so long. This isn’t the first time they’ve touched, but it’s the first offering in too many years apart.

I read the bittersweet notes as they work across Hota’s stunning features. His gaze lifts to Arlo’s and then mine. Apprehension knits his brows.

“We will,” I agree with a smile and a nod toward Arlo’s hand.

Hota is so hesitant to touch me.

It’s a knife to the chest.

One I’ve earned a thousand times over.

I hold my hand across the abyss between us and wait.

The discomfort I feel surrounded by strangers, who could brush against me at any moment or bump into me and set me into a panicked spiral, is a small price to pay for the potential to truly touchmy guyfor the first time in so many years.

Hailey’s voice seems to bring a reassurance mine could not. After that, Hota nods and lifts his hand toward mine. For a fraction of a second, I’m terrified.

What if he touches me, and I feel nothing? On the flip side, what if I feel everything?

What if it cracks the dam on all the feelings and emotions I’ve blocked through the years where he’s concerned?

I don’t know which would be worse.

That’s not true. I do.

Hota slides his hand into mine. For anyone else, it looks like a handshake at least and a helping hand at most.

To me, it’s the explosion that started the universe.

As if my skin has memory, mine has been welcomed home after years lost at war. The warmth and familiarity, the yearning and joy threaten to knock me on my ass. My chest goes tight, and my nose burns with tears I refuse to set free.

Not here. Not now.

I grab him like I never intend to let him go. I pull him to his feet. Suddenly, we’re eye to eye and chest to chest.

There’s a sheen of tears in his deep, dark eyes.

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