Chapter 37 Hold Onto Me
LAWRENCE
"Lawrence, oh my gosh, Lawrence, I'm gonna fall over!" Scarlett's voice rises with panic as her arms shoot out sideways, fighting for balance. Her skates wobble dangerously beneath her, totally uninterested in her dignity.
Gliding over in a smooth stride, I catch her waist before she can topple, my hands settling firmly on her hips to steady her.
"You won't," I say against her ear, "if you stop panicking."
She's stiff in my grip, her breath coming in short puffs that fog the air between us. The temporary rink inside the converted warehouse is kept deliberately cold; her cheeks and the tip of her nose are already pink from it.
"This was your idea of making it up to me?" She squeaks, trying to move on her own. "Throwing me on synthetic ice?"
"The first of many," I tell her, guiding her slowly forward. "We're starting gentle."
"Gentle?" She laughs nervously, clutching my forearms. "This
is gentle? I feel like a toddler on roller skates."
"You're doing fine." I keep my grip steady, skating backwards so I can face her, pulling her along. "Bend your knees a little. Lean into the edges of the blades, not the toes."
She tries. Her knees wobble, but she manages a shaky glide.
"See? You're moving."
"Barely," she grumbles. "And only because you're basically doing all the work."
We circle the small rink slowly. The place is quiet tonight—I'd rented it and given a generous donation to the venue's charity fund.
There are no crowds, screaming kids, or phones in our faces. It's just us. Well, and the occasional squeak when she thinks she's about to go down.
After a few laps, she starts to relax, her grip on my arms loosening from death-grip to something trusting.
"Okay," she admits grudgingly, "this isn't terrible."
My response is a smirk.
"How are you so good at this?" Scarlett asks as she clings to my forearms. "Ugh, you're so good at everything."
"It's not that hard," I reply simply, "You just have to find balance."
We glide past one of the fake snow-dusted trees lining the rink's edge, part of the venue's "winter wonderland"
aesthetic.
"What if balance doesn't want to find me?" she grumbles, wobbling as I guide her through a gentle turn.
I chuckle. I've been doing that more often lately. With Scarlett around, the sound feels less forced.
"Fun fact," she begins, "I've always wanted to try ice skating, but I've had this fear of falling and embarrassing myself." She gives a shy smile.
I fight the urge to say, "I know."
Why else would this be the very first place I brought her on my first attempt at trying to make up for every cruel, cold thing I've ever said or done?
I've stalked her so thoroughly that I can recite all the items in her secret bucket list by heart.
Ice skating was number seven, right between "Take a picture at the Eiffel Tower"
and "learn to make perfect macarons."
She wrote it months ago, abandoned in her private notes. But I remember it.
And I wanted to be the one to give it to her.
I can't let her know how deep my knowledge of her goes, especially
not when she's finally starting to look at me with trust in those eyes.
That sort of information will scare anyone away, and the last thing I want is her frightened of me.
"Everyone falls the first time," I say to her instead. "That's why they rent the skates with the double blades for beginners. And why they have people like me to catch you."
"Whatever." She rolls her eyes, a smile wreathing across her face. "I also wanted to be here with a man. I find it romantic."
I stiffen for a second at the thought of her being here with someone else. Perhaps Kieran, if I hadn't made the connection and barged in on them that day.
The thought makes me sick to my stomach.
"You're here with me now. So, you're welcome," I joke lightly.
Scarlett blushes, then keeps talking. "Anytime I come across figure skating videos, I just can't stop watching them. Their movements are so mesmerising and romantic…the way they move together like they're in love."
Tightening my hold on her waist, I guide her into a slow, wide circle around the rink.
Scarlett doesn't realise it, but she's steadier now, gliding instead of stumbling. I loosen my hold, letting her find her own rhythm, but staying close so I can catch her if she falters.
"See?" I say quietly. "Looks like balance found you."
She bites her lip, fighting a smile.
"Maybe it just needed the right partner."
I want to kiss her for that statement when her phone rings.
"Please, help me over to our bags," she says, clutching my arm again.
"What would you do without me?" I tease, but I'm already moving, sliding us both carefully toward the boards where we left our things.
She fumbles for her phone, glances at the screen, then looks up at me.
"It's Jay."
"Who?"
"Jason Straw. He works in the office. Shhh."
She turns her back to me slightly, answering in a softer tone. "Hey, Jay."
The name clicks.
When I first arrived in New York, I went through every employee file, paying closest attention to the ones with real access: HR, IT, executive support.
Jason Straw was in the IT department.
I stay silent, listening.
"I'm so sorry I haven't called," she's saying. "I've been…" she glances at me. "...busy."
My jaw tightens. There's a particular softness in a woman's voice when she's talking to a man who wants her.
I recognise it.
"Yeah… I kinda had to leave town for a bit to go see her…" Scarlett trails on, gripping the railing tighter for balance. "Yeah, I can't believe he's dead, too… No, I'm fine… Yes…"
She continues talking, while I wait.
"Thanks for calling. I'll talk to you later. Bye," she hangs up and slips the phone back into her bag before using the boards to glide slowly toward me.
"Why's Jay calling you?" I ask, trying to sound cool.
She shrugs, brushing past me. "Cause he's worried? He knew I was somehow involved with Kieran. When he heard about the death, he reached out. Plus, thanks to you, he also heard the news about my 'sick grandma.'"
I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes.
"He likes you."
Scarlett keeps moving along the railing, pretending not to hear the edge in my voice.
"It's just a crush. He knows we're never going to be anything."
My silence makes her stop, and she turns, fixing me with a stern look.
"Lawrence," she says, like she's scolding a child. "Don't do anything to him. He's my friend."
I nod. "Hm."
Then I glide backwards to the middle of the rink, out of her reach.
"Lawrence, I'm serious," she calls.
"Mmm? Can't hear you," I reply, cupping my ear dramatically. "You're going to have to come closer, Miss Thorn."
I cross my arms and wait, grinning.
She throws me a death glare, but there's a spark of amusement in it too.
"Fine," she mutters.
She curses under her breath, then takes one dangerous step off the boards, her legs wobbling, and her arms stretched wide for balance.
Before I can blink, she falls forward, landing on all fours.