Page 107 of Moms of Mayhem
It wasn’t graceful—not at first. His legs adjusted slow, his balance off by just a hair. But he moved, gliding forward a few feet, then stopping with a low, controlled turn. His eyes lit up with something I hadn’t seen in weeks.
Not just relief. Not just joy.
Something deeper. Like he’d just remembered who he was.
He turned back to me and held out his hand. “Come on, Peach. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I took it and stepped onto the ice, skating toward him with steady strides.
“You’re not bad,” he said, his voice full of wonder as we found a rhythm, skating side by side.
“You sound surprised.”
“I’m impressed.”
“You should be. I was unstoppable in gym class.”
He laughed and skated ahead, doing a few laps before coming back to my side.
We skated like that for a long while, until our breaths puffed out in white clouds and my toes started to ache from the cold. I didn’t care. Not even a little. I felt like a teenager again, heart racing, cheeks flushed, falling in love under a winter sky.
At one point, Beckett grabbed my hand and pulled me in close, our bodies still moving as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
“I missed this,” he said quietly. “The ice. The cold. The way it shuts the world up for a while.”
I nodded, resting my head against his shoulder. “I get that.”
And I did understand. But as his lips touched down on my forehead, I realized I’d miss this. This exact moment. This quiet, stolen piece of something that already felt fleeting.
Because when he had to go back to Denver, how would I ever say goodbye?
32
Skating with Emmy was supposed to be just another PT milestone. A box to check, nothing more. But sharing that frozen pond with her cracked something open in me. How she smiled when I helped her lace her skates. How her laugh echoed across the ice. How she fit against me like we’d been built to glide through life side by side. It was supposed to be rehab, not a revelation.
By the time we got back to the driveway, emotions were running higher than I expected. My chest was tight with everything I couldn’t say, everything I felt. It had been days of tension, of almosts and unfinished moments. And now—now I couldn’t wait another damn second.
When she looked up at me with wind-chilled cheeks and kiss-bitten lips, I needed her. Right there. I needed her like breath, like gravity, like something primal I’d kept locked away too long.
I walked toward my truck, opened the back door, and climbed in. She followed without a word.
The doors shut. The world faded.
She climbed into my lap and her mouth crashed into mine like we’d been holding back for weeks, not days. Fingers hooked in the hem of my hoodie, her body pressing against mine with this desperate urgency that had my control unraveling by the second.
I unzipped her vest, then pushed up the sweatshirt, savoring the sound she made when I cupped her breasts.
“I think about this all the time,” I murmured against her neck, tongue dragging along her pulse point. “You. Right here. Just like this.”
“Yeah?” Her breath hitched when I pinched her nipple, head falling back. “You think about me in your fancy truck?”
“Fuck yes, I do.”
She let out a breathy laugh, just before gasping when I lifted her, settling her across the back seat. Her leggings slid down easy, and I took my time pressing kisses along her chilled skin, pushing her thighs apart.
“I think about how you sound.” My voice dropped. “How you taste. How perfect your body feels wrapped around me.”
She reached down, popping the button on my jeans. “Then shut up andfuck me already.”
