Page 64 of Stay
“Yeah. Why are we heading to the ice rink at nine in the morning?”
His expression becomes shuttered, as he holds open thedoor for me. “You’ll see.”
With our gazes locked, he hunkers down, grabbing the seatbelt before pulling it across my chest and clicking it into place.
My brows slide together as I study him. Even though he kissed me in greeting, he seems oddly distant.
It’s a ten-minute drive to the arena and Cole is quiet the entire way.
My guess is that there’s something on his mind, but, for whatever reason, he’s keeping it to himself. One of the things I’ve grown to like about Cole is that he doesn’t play games. Even though I’ve been less forthright with him, he’s still straightforward with me. I always know where I stand and what to expect from him.
That, however, is not the case now.
It makes me feel strangely anxious.
When I can’t stand another second of the silence that fills the cabin of the car, I force myself to ask, “Is something wrong?”
For some reason, that’s how it feels.
If nothing were wrong, Cole would already have my hand firmly ensconced within his own. Instead, my fingers are twisting nervously in my lap.
And as much as I want to be the one to reach out first…
“Everything’s fine.” Even though he gives me a reassuring smile, he seems distracted.
Distant.
I can’t get that word out of my head. I never realized how attentive Cole was until he wasn’t.
“Are you sure?” I inhale a deep breath and try to find my nerve. It takes effort to reach out and lay my fingers over his larger hand. He glances at me, our gazes colliding, before shifting back to the ribbon of road in front of him.
“I’m sure.” Even though he wraps his fingers around mine, giving them a brief squeeze, it still feels as if something sits uncomfortably between us.
It’s a relief when we finally pull into the parking lot. Without a word spoken between us, we exit the vehicle. Cole pops open the trunk and grabs my bag, hoisting it over his shoulder.
Instead of focusing on the weird tension, I glance around the crowded lobby. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here at nine o’clock on a Saturday morning?”
When we skate, it’s usually five in the morning, before the arena is open to the public. I love when it’s just the two of us on the ice.
“You’ll see.” He nods toward one of the rinks. “Come on.”
Before I can ask any more questions, he strides toward rink number one. After a silent moment, I trail after him. As much as I don’t like what’s happening between us, I’m unsure how to smooth it over and make it better.
Cole holds open the door and I’m hit by a burst of frigid air.
He points to a door on the other side of the rink. “Use locker room number three and meet me back here.”
I glance around and notice a team in the middle of a ninety-minute practice. There’s still sixty minutes left running on the clock.
“Don’t you think I’m a little old to play with these guys?” Actually, they’re more like boys. Normally, on a Saturday morning, both sheets of ice are being used for hockey practice or games. I have no idea why he wants me to suit up.
The first full-fledged smile I’ve seen from him since he picked me up twenty minutes earlier curves his lips. My heart skips a painful beat in response.
“Just go change,” he orders softly.
I give him one last searching look before reaching for my bag. Our fingers brush during the exchange and a sizzle of awareness shoots through me. My gaze rises to his only to find his attention already locked on me.
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper, feeling knocked off balance.
