Page 116 of Breaking Point
She rights herself in her seat as I flick my blinker on to turn into the stadium. Her grin is smug as she purrs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” I tease as I place the car in park.
She peers up at the stadium. “Are we allowed to be here after hours?”
Turning in my seat, I observe her—the slight crease between her brows, the frown marring her features, the hand on her thigh doing a slow, rhythmic tap.
“Are you a stickler for rules, Miss Stratford?” I ask.
Her swallow is audible. “Maybe.”
I let out a small chuckle, and before I can think about it, I slide my rough calloused hands across her smooth ones, halting the taps and squeezing in reassurance. “I called Coach. It’s okay, they know we’re using it tonight.” Her head drops to our joined hands before her gaze slowly returns to my face.
Before she can be the one to pull away, I give it a squeeze and remove my hand, opening my door. Quickly rounding the truck, I open her door right as she reaches for it.
Her brow quirks. “Pulling out all the stops tonight.”
Winking, I muse, “Always for you.”
She blinks.
Fuck, was that too much too quickly?She’s like a bear in the woods, sizing me up to see if I’ll be predator or prey.
Quickly scrambling to get rid of that hesitant look, I rush on, “Can’t have word getting out that I treat my pretend girlfriend horribly.”
Her lip quirks. “Come on, Casanova, let’s go.”
Breathing out a sigh of relief, I close the door, then lead us through the facility to the rink. Bella whistles low as it comes into view, her breath puffing out in front of her face.
“It’s different without the crowd screaming,” she says softly, her gaze taking in everything.
“Peaceful.”
She turns to me, and whatever she sees on my face has her saying, “You really love it, don’t you?”
“The rink?”
“Skating.” She gestures to the ice. “Playing.”
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. “More than love. It feels like coming home. The second those skates slip on I feel like I’m right where I’m meant to be.”
“It’s a beautiful thing to have something in your life that makes you feel that way, and lucky that it’s your profession.”
My head cocks to the side. “Does anything make you feel that way?”
A faraway look enters her eyes before she softly says, “Drawing.”Before I can comment on it, she shakes her head, giving me a smile. “So where are my skates?”
I let her change the topic—for now. “This way.”
When Bella stopped by the house this morning and slipped her shoes off, I took a quick peek at the size and ducked out to buy her a set of skates. Something tells me that if she knew they were new and not secondhand, I’d get a scolding.
Stopping outside our locker room, I pause. “Perhaps it’s best you stay out here while I grab the skates.”
Her brows rise. “Sacred locker room?”
“Something like that.” And I don’t want to traumatize her with the smell. No matter how much it gets cleaned, it constantly reeks of sweaty men.
Her nose scrunches up and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. “I don’t even want to know, do I?”
