Page 28 of Gamechanger

"Suspense?" Axel muttered with a gleam in his eyes.

I took a deep breath and then blurted it out. "Finn and I are together. Like, dating together."

We were all silent for a beat, and then Quinn cheered so loudly that diners at nearby tables turned to see what the commotion was about. "Maybe I shouldn't say it, but it's about damn time. You two were making goo-goo eyes the first time you met. I thought I might have to lock the two of you in a supply closet at the arena to sort this out."

Axel was more mellow about it. "Congratulations, but please, keep the locker room PDA to a minimum, yeah?"

Relief washed over me. It was out there, and Finn didn't protest. That meant it was real. Quinn jumped in with questions.

"So, who made the first move? Was it romantic? Red roses and all? Did you hold hands while sipping protein shakes and kale smoothies?"

Finn laughed. "I guess most of that will be in the movie version, but real life wasn't quite so interesting. Still, there might have been a bit of mistletoe involved."

Quinn leaned forward. "Mistletoe? Oh, this I've got to hear. Spill it all, you two lovebirds."

Finn delivered a slightly embellished story while Quinn hung on every word. I exhaled while the anxiety that gripped me earlier started to fade.

While the story continued, Axel caught my eye. "You good?"

I smiled, happy for his care and concern. "Yeah, I'm good."

Axel interrupted just as Finn started to say something about hearing reindeer hooves on the roof. "I see the server on the way with those ridiculous cocktails. I think this news calls for a proper celebration."

We all held our tiny axes in one hand and the drinks in the other, clinking the glasses while making chopping movements. Quinn intoned, "To Moose and Finn, a match made in lumberjack heaven."

***

After dinner, we visited Pioneer Courthouse Square, the site of a temporary public ice rink set up for the holidays. We wanted to celebrate midnight with a friendly crowd, and it wasan opportunity to get some skating in before the big moment. I instantly worried that I'd face plant on the ice, and my fingers trembled while I laced up my skates.

As I took my first steps onto the ice, I regretted every life choice I'd made that led me to the current moment. My long legs wobbled under me like I was a newborn foal. I reached out to cling to the rink's edge, hanging on for dear life.

"Come on, Moose," Quinn called out to me, gliding backward like it was as easy as walking on firm ground. "Skating is like walking, just a little slipperier."

"Easy for you to say," I growled under my breath and started to inch forward at a glacial pace. "Unfortunately, I didn't grow up on the ice."

I'd eased forward about three feet away from the rink's edge when my feet decided they wanted to go in a different direction from the rest of my body. They shot out from under me, and I windmilled my arms, fighting to remain standing. The moment before I tumbled to the ice, a firm hand caught my elbow.

"Whoa, big guy." It was Finn, and he held on to steady me. "You need a baby giraffe to teach you about balance."

"Funny," I grumbled, but I was grateful he helped. "If you think this is bad, you should have seen me knitting for the first time with these oversized fingers."

"And see how far you've come?" He gripped my elbow firmly. "Let's see if we can get you moving in the traffic without suffering another near-death experience."

He skated around to stand in front of me, taking both my hands. "Okay, now, bend your knees a bit." I followed his instructions. "That's it. Now, look at me, not the ice. It's not going anywhere. Push off gently with one foot and then the other."

Finn was a patient teacher. We slowly began to move across the ice. He skated backward while I did my best to avoid taking us both down.

"There you go." He grinned. "You're getting it."

As we began to move around the rink, I started to relax. My shoulders were less tense, and the glide of my skates made me smile. I focused on Finn's bright smile.

After we finished our second lap around the rink, he slowed us to a stop. "Ready to try it on your own?"

I gripped his hands tightly. "I… I don't know."

"You've got it. I'll be right here if you need me. I'll be close enough to catch you."

We began to move again, and he slowly released my hands. At first, I imagined I was like a tightrope walker without a net, but then I pushed off a little harder with one foot and then the other as Finn taught me. I was skating. It was still a little shaky, and I had none of the grace of my hockey-playing friends, but I managed to move forward under my own power.

---