Page 55 of At the Edge with You

“Because they never thought I was good enough for you.” A lump forms in my throat, and he looks away. I watch as his jaw goes tight, his expression so sad it makes my stomach hurt. Before I can contradict their statements or ask if he felt something for me then, he says, “I don’t want to talk about them. Do you want to skate for Kitty?”

I nod without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Then let’s skate for her.”

The confidence in his eyes makes me feel high. “We’re twenty years older, and I’ve gained weight.”

“So have I,” he says with a shrug. “It won’t be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s us.”

“Can you even do the skills still?”

“I’m sure I can. I’ve fooled around on my hockey skates, but like you said, muscle memory.” I press my lips together, not confident in this, in our ability to make this happen. Too much time has passed, and we only have three months until Kitty’s birthday. Unaware of my inner thoughts, Jett shrugs. “I’ve got my skates,” he says, hooking his thumb behind us. He doesn’t move, though. Instead, he asks, “Do you want me to get them on, or do you want me to keep holding you?”

My heart melts as I hold his gaze. I don’t want him to let me go, but I also want to see if this is even doable. “While I am enjoying being wrapped up in Jett Thomas Cook’s arms, I want you to get those skates.”

His lips curve up in the most devastating way. “I love how you say my name.” He leans in, his lips right against my nose as he whispers, “I bet it’d sound better if you moaned it.” My face instantly heats, and his grin grows even bigger. “Fucking adorable.”

I push him away. “Stop messing with me. Go.”

He walks backward for a bit before he says, “Who says I’m messing around?”

“Jett,” I complain, and he winks.

“A little louder and breathier.”

His eyes are wicked as I roll mine, but meanwhile, in my leggings, there is a party going on. I’m hotter than hot yoga, and my clit is throbbing with need. I blow out a breath, wondering if I can give in to my temptation. But the fear of the unknown paralyzes me. Ignoring my inner turmoil, I watch as he walks toward the bench, not slipping at all on the ice. When he sits to put on his skates, I start to skate again so that my legs don’t get cold. He stands and makes a face before looking over at me. A sheepish look covers his features as he heads for the doors leading to the ice. “I should have thrown these on monthly.”

I smile at how unsure he looks. It’s not an emotion that Jett wears. He is a very confident man, and even when we were younger, he wore the skates like he was born to. He also had younger hips and less breakable bones, so I get it. He comes onto the ice, and when he pushes off, he looks exactly as I remember. All stealthy and graceful. Or so I thought, because on my next breath, he must feel off-kilter cause his arms go wild around him as he shifts his feet to gain his balance.

When he stills, his eyes cut to mine, and I’m grinning. “Toe pick.”

His eyes flash with warning, and I’m bubbling with laughter.

Then he’s chasing me.

My laughter fills the rink as he gains on me with ease, catching me around the waist and pulling me back into him. His hand comes to my hip, kneading the flesh there before his other threads with the fingers on my free hand. I feel his heart pounding, letting me know it’s beating as hard as mine is. I take a shaky breath, trusting my partner before I lean back into him. His hand tightens at my waist, and together, we skate as one.

Just like we used to.

He leans his chin against my temple, and I can’t help but smile as our feet move in sync with each other.

Is this just muscle memory?

Or more?

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

Jett

“We got this.”

I sound entirely too confident for how I feel. She knows it too. Fable looks over her shoulder at me, stray pieces of her hair blowing with the breeze we make. She looks majestic, like she belongs in a Disney movie rather than this backcountry town. She raises her brow, and I raise one right back as I tell her, “Just don’t ever say toe pick again. Your mom ruined that phrase for me.”

Her laughter hits me square in the chest. When I found her, she looked so broken, so confused, that all I wanted was for her to smile again. I succeeded and even made her blush so damn beautifully.

Between her giggles, she vows, “I promise.”

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