Page 71 of Fall For Me
“No. This is showing off.” I toss the puck high into the air and spin until I’m dizzy.
The puck drops onto the ice with a clatter. Sean tries to grab it, but I’m quicker. I shove the puck through his legs and deke around him, laughing as he chases after me. With him hot on my heels, I fire off the shot. The puck spins in the air, hits the back of the net, then clatters to the ground.
I throw my arms up in the air. “I win!”
One second, my skates are on the ice; the next, I’m over his shoulder, the facility spinning in a blur.
“Put me down!” I laugh.
We come to a stop, and as I slowly slide down the front of his body, his laughter trails off and his beautiful brown eyes lock with mine.
“I love you . . . that’s what ‘te amo’ means. And I do love you, Hannah.”
The air stills, and something electric rushes its way through my body. My throat works, but the words won’t come out of my mouth. Releasing his shirt from my clinched fists, I run my hands up his chest and circle them around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair. I rise on the toe of my skates and kiss him. Every word that refuses to leave my lips, every ounce of love I’ve ever felt for him . . . my fears, and my hopes . . . I pour it all into this kiss.
When we pull back, we’re both breathless. His thumb brushes along my cheek as his gaze captures mine.
“Yeah,” he murmurs softly, reading my mind. “I know, baby. I know.”
His serious expression dissipates, and in its place, a slow, playful grin spreads across his lips as something mischievous flickers in his eyes.
“Now,” he says, handing me his stick and easing back from me, “you just stand your pretty ass right there and let me show you something I’ve never shown anyone outside of my family.”
He skates back a few feet, reaching up to tie his hair into a quick bun.
“This is our little secret,” he adds, pointing at me. “You tell anyone and I’ll deny it until my dying breath. I mean it, Rebel, this is our little circle of trust.”
“Cross my heart. I won’t tell a soul.” I laugh, lifting my right hand as he pushes off, gliding across the ice.
He circles the crease, picking up speed, then turns, skating backwards past center ice. A second later, he launches into the air, arms pulled tight to his chest as he spins.
My breath catches.
Sean’s blades kiss the ice like he never left it, carrying the momentum straight into his next move. His skates blur beneath him in an intricate series of complicated steps balanced on the toes of his blades. Then he jumps again, landing only to pull into a tight spin, folding at the waist with his leg in a figure four, his head resting on his calf. It’s stunning. So beautiful, in fact, tears well in my eyes.
He unwinds smoothly, letting the spin slow until he glides to a stop. With a small, exaggerated flourish, he bows and makes his way back to me.
“Sean, that was beautiful.”
Taking my hands in his, he pulls me along to skate with him.
“I learned from my mom. Sometimes I’d dick around with some moves when no one was watching—just kinda repeated what I saw my mom and sisters do over and over until I got it.” He shrugs as he skates backwards, leading me around the rink. “Now it just comes natural.”
“You could honestly be a figure skater if you wanted to. That was the most stunning performance I’ve ever seen.”
Instead of responding, his eyes lock with mine for a few beats . . . then it hits me. Watching. Learning. Repeating. Breaking things down without thinking twice about it. Fixing issues and reading plays before they happen.
My grip tightens in his hand. “This was a lesson, wasn’t it?”
He huffs out a laugh. “I just preach from the good book of Sean, mi amor. Whatever you take from it is whatever you take from it.”
“I don’t know if I’m good enough.”
He slows us to a stop and wraps his arms around my waist. “Being good at something doesn’t mean you have to do it, just like those with an opportunity to do something doesn’t make them good at it. Which you are . . . you know . . . good at coaching. You have both: skill and opportunity. Doesn’t mean you have to do it. Thing is, I see your passion and your ability, so don’t you dare doubt yourself. And don’t say no just because you doubt yourself. There’s no need to make any life choices right now. Mull on it a while, and whatever you decide, I’m in your corner.”
“What if I decide to do it and I fail in front of the world?”
“Well then, you pick your ass back up, dust yourself, and go again. Just like anything else. Look at me.” He tilts my chin up. “You won’t fail.”
