Page 159 of The Fine Line
I’m so focused on pretending that I don’t notice he’s already pulled back and is watching me too closely.
I blink. Right—smile. Shit.
I let out a forced laugh, pat his shoulder.
The photographer calls out, “Turn this way, please, gentlemen!”
I pivot fast. Bennett’s slower to follow, still watching me. When he finally drapes an arm around my shoulder, I flinch but force myself not to pull away.
I force a smile, holding it until the photographer finishes snapping shots.
“Thanks, guys,” the photographer calls.
I move to leave immediately, desperate for space.
“Hey, wait,” Bennett calls.
I stop. I don’t want to, but I do. “Yeah?”
He searches my face. “I thought you might want to?—”
Two voices scream my name, cutting him off. I turn—and freeze.
Shaunna and Teddy James. Smiling, waving, pounding the glass like it’s ten years ago.
The lump in my throat rises fast. I thought facing Bennett would wreck me—but this is worse. Because seeing his parents makes me feel truly ashamed.
“Thought you might want to say hi,” Bennett murmurs. “Not like you have a choice.”
I force a crooked smile. Nod. “Yeah. Of course.”
We skate over. Their words hit me fast—questions, greetings, jokes. All overlapping. All kind. All warm.
I blink, lost. “Um—I… it’s good to see you too.”
They wait for more. I have nothing. My mouth goes dry.
“I should—uh—I should get back to warm-ups,” I manage. “Thank you.”
I hope they know how much those two words mean. Even if they sound hollow.
I skate off. Heavy exhale.
A glove grabs my shoulder.
“Rhett, what’s going on?”
I turn. Bennett’s eyes are sharp and searching.
“What? I—Nothing,” I say too quickly. “What do you mean?”
He tilts his head. “You seem totally out of it.”
“Oh.”
Fuck.
“I didn’t sleep great last night.”
