Page 47 of Score on You

“That depends on what you mean by weird. They’re fairly common in buildings with at least two stories, especially elevators.”

A memory clicks on in my mind. “Do they go up and down?”

“Fuck,” he chuckles. “You’re too adorable. Yes, they’re both motorized alternatives for stairs.”

“There’s still much to learn,” I mumble.

“Let’s just go this way.” He hitches a thumb at a regular door.

“Nope, I’m going through the spin cycle. The entire purpose of fleeing the compound was to experience everything I’d been missing, and that’s stating it mildly. But a revolving door is on the list regardless.”

Ridge’s stubbled cheek twitches with a renewed smirk. “I can’t argue with that.”

I pull in a deep breath until my lungs complain. “You won’t let go of my hand, right?”

“Wouldn’t if you begged.”

“Really?”

His expression turns smug. “I’d consider it, but probably not.”

“That’s what I thought. Okay, I’m ready.” I creep forward to what might be a torture chamber, or a time machine if I’m being fanciful.

Ridge takes charge of the situation. My feet are practically lifted off the ground as he casually strolls into a triangular enclosure that’s fit for two. He’s so tall surrounding me, like a protective shield. I hold my breath while the glass cylinder envelops us. We shuffle to keep pace with the lazy speed. The frantic thrash in my pulse slows. This isn’t scary. Well, not unless we get stuck. But we arrive on the other side without incident.

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” He guides me forward to allow those behind us to exit the rotation as well.

“Nope,” I chirp. But then I catch sight of the massive space we’ve stepped into. My shoes stick to the concrete while I gawk at the ceiling that appears sky-high. “Holy shit.”

Ridge chokes. “Did you just curse?”

“Can you blame me?” I fling an arm toward the curved wall made entirely of windows that stretches farther than I can see. Across from that impressive sight are display cases filled with awards and memorabilia that probably costs a fortune. The awe goes on from there. “This deserves an expletive. I wasn’t prepared for… all this.”

An amused rumble rolls off the man I’m glued against. “If the concourse gets this type of reaction, you’re gonna lose your mind once we get to the ice.”

Without releasing my grip on him, I turn in a slow circle. “That’s highly possible. It’s already surreal out here. My mother wouldn’t believe me if I told her,” I breathe.

He peers down at me. “I haven’t heard you mention her very often. Are you worried about how she’s doing since you left?”

“Yes, constantly. It’s hard to think about her. I feel extremely guilty for leaving her behind.” My chest aches as I wonder what she’s doing at this very moment. “But I’m trying to live a better life for both of us. That’s what she wanted. For the past year, I trained myself to shut off the pain from the past. I struggled at the beginning, but I won’t take her sacrifice for granted. Maybe one day she’ll get to explore beyond the limits of Billmoore. In the meantime, I’m trying to capture every moment in her honor.”

The reminder has me blindly grabbing for a one-handed grip on my camera. I aim the lens down the long corridor that’s bright with natural light. As the gears grind to spit out the film, Ridge stoops to my level.

“Should we take one together?”

“Of course.” I’m giddy with the possibility of another shot with him. If he knew how badly I want to fill an entire album with pictures of us, he’d probably never speak to me again. But a sideways glance finds his focus locked on me. On second thought, he might enjoy that.

“May I?” He holds open his palm for me to pass over the Instax.

There’s no hesitation from me to fulfill his request. His fingers release mine in order for him to loop an arm around my waist to pull me close. The motion is seamless, never severing our contact.

The height difference between us is laughable, but he doesn’t complain while bending lower. Our cheeks almost touch as we pose for the photo. I don’t have to ask if he’s going to look at the lens. It seems to be his signature style. Plus, I like the idea that he can’t look away from me. He presses the button while I smile from the inside out. The flash has spots dancing in my eyes that might as well be stars and hearts and—

“Can I be next, Crusher?”

My eyes scan for the owner of the feminine voice, finally landing on a beautiful blonde. Confidence practically shines from her flawless complexion. My own shrinks and cowers beneath a familiar layer of insecurity.

A loud buzz fills my ears as I begin scooting from the frame to let her replace me. It’s physically painful to separate from him, but the sting doesn’t get a chance to spread. Ridge’s grip on me doesn’t loosen. If anything, he holds me tighter.

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