Page 39 of My Last Dance

His eyes locked on my shins. “Your legs?” he whispered.

I didn’twantto be mean to him, I truly didn’t, but the overwhelming anger and frustration swirling inside me finally had a target. “Get out, Dick,” I snarled.

But he didn’t budge. He just continued waiting for me to answer.

I scrubbed a hand down my face, willing myself not to cry. “Can youpleasejust give me a couple minutes?”

His eyes were serious and full of concern as he leaned on the mop. “I’m about to take my break. Wanna go to the concession stand? Get an icee? Watch the Timbits fall like dominoes for a minute? Always peps me up.”

“I don’t want to be pepped up,” I whispered tersely. What I wanted was to crawl into a heap and scream-cry at the unfairness of this stupid pain until I fell asleep.

He cocked an eyebrow at me as he pushed his mop to the side. “Well, that’s too bad. You need it. Let’s go.”

Staring down at my perfectly white tennis shoes, I willed myself to get moving, to pick up my stuff and breeze past him, but I couldn’t. I was stuck. Just the thought of standing filled me with intense dread. Each little movement made a shock of pain shoot through my legs. After pretending not to feel it all day, I was worn out and scared to feel it again.

Stupid, stupid, stupid,I admonished.I should’ve gotten off the ice way earlier than I did, but Patrick and I were reworking a pass of footwork, and I wanted to get it right.

“Piper…” Kappy demanded, waiting on me by the door.

God, why wasn’t he just giving up on me?I just wanted to be left alone. I wantedanythingother than having to admit this out loud.

“Just get the fuck out!” I yelled, my voice going pitchy from panic.

But he just leaned against the wall and casually crossed his ankles, looking like he could wait on me all day.

“Hans will be pissed if you don’t get back to work,” I tried.

“Okay.” He shrugged. “Go tell on me, sweetheart,” he challenged. “Because he’ll be more pissed when he finds out you’re crying over an injury that you’re hiding.”

“I amnot—”

“Don’t lie.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Not to me, Piper. I’m not leaving you alone in here, so c’mon.” He hitched a thumb at the door.

Rolling my lips together, I closed my eyes. My body shook withfrustration and pain. “I-I can’t.” The admission barely left my lips.

“What’s that?” He gestured to his ear.

My shoulders fell. “I can’t,” I said more forcefully.

His face went slack.

I sucked in a deep breath to steady myself. It went against everything in me to share this information, but at the same time, I was just so tired. So tired of pretending everything was fine. So tired of feeling this pain.

He dropped on the bench beside me. I could practically feel his gaze boring into me, like he was attempting to read my mind.

“It hurts too bad—” My voice broke. I grit my teeth, willing my chin to stop wobbling. “To walk,” I finished.

When I dared to look over at him, pity was written all over his face, and I hated it.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, smoothing a hand over my face. “Forget I said anything. You don’t have to, like, feel sorry for me.”

He rubbed his jaw. “I’m not feeling sorry, I’m…” He cut himself off. His eyebrows drew down and he worked his jaw back and forth, almost as if he were…angry. After a second, he cleared his throat. “All right, let’s go.” He smoothed his hands down his thighs. “I’ll give you a lift.”

I just stared at him in shock.

He knelt down in front of me. “Piggyback ride.”

“What? No, it’s fine. Like I said, I’m fine. Just forget I said anything, please,” I pushed.

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