Page 59 of Spotlight
“I think so.”
He holds out his hand to me. “We’ll take it slow.”
My heart speeds up as I place my palm in his. His fingers close over mine and we move carefully together. He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before we step off the carpet to the smooth floor of the rink.
It takes a few seconds to get my bearings and not feel like I’m going to fall on my face. If Flynn has any of those same feelings of unsteadiness, it isn’t obvious. He looks as graceful and athletic as always.
“When’s the last time you skated?” I ask him.
“I don’t know,” he says, keeping his stride short and in sync with mine. “High school, maybe?”
“So not long, then?” I grin at him.
“Ha ha,” he replies dryly. “I’m not that much younger than you.”
“Three years.”
“I’m mature for my age.”
“Says the man who brought me roller skating,” I tease.
He speeds up, tugging me after him. I squeal as he pulls me faster. His grip on my hand tightens almost like he’s determined to keep me upright by my fingertips if necessary. When I get my bearings again, he says, “I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.”
Laughing, I pull free of him and skate ahead then turn to face him. His jaw drops slightly and he lets his head fall back with a chuckle. I’m grateful that I don’t fall showing off for him.
“Greer gets invited to a lot of skate parties,” I say when I turn back and fall into stride with him again.
“Impressive. I bet you’re the hottest mom of the group. So much for original, huh?”
That pulls a surprised laugh out of me.
“How is Greer? I heard Archer and Sabrina are watching her tonight.”
“She’s good. Probably forcing Archer to play dress-up and teach her new words in sign language.”
“She won’t need to force him into anything.”
That’s probably true. He’s really good with her. So is Flynn for that matter. I have replayed that moment in the ice cream shop where he handed her the bouncy ball over and over. I love seeing her so happy and open. It’s a gift that I doubt Flynn or even Archer realizes they’ve given us.
“Is it hard being away from her?” he asks as a teenage couple rolls past us. They’re holding hands, looking carefree and happy and so in love.
Flynn finds my hand again.
“Yeah,” I admit with a nod. “It’s weird because I look forward to bedtime when I finally get some time to myself or a night doing adult things?—”
“Like skating.” He waggles his brows playfully.
“Exactly.”
We laugh together.
“But fifteen minutes after she falls asleep or an hour into a date, I usually find myself wondering what she’s doing and missing her.” I probably shouldn’t admit that to a guy mid-date, but it’s the truth.
“Do you want to call her?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I know she’s having fun with Sabrina and Archer.”
We’ve gone around the rink a few times now and have found a steady rhythm. The music changes from the upbeat pop song to a slower one.
