Chapter 51

KAIA

A few days later, I caved.

Adrien had texted me after class, something simple— "Still down for that skating lesson? Say 5pm? I'll send you the location."

I stared at the screen for all of ten seconds before replying: "Let's do it."

The place he sent me was called Glacier Hall. The name sounded dramatic—like I was about to enter an Olympic arena instead of possibly fall on my face for an hour straight.

I threw on something warm but casual: an oversized gray hoodie layered under my cropped puffer jacket, black leggings, and fuzzy socks because... ice. I pulled my hair up in a loose bun, leaving a few strands out for effortless chaos.

Cute but functional, that was the vibe.

The subway ride was only a few stops away, but I felt like I was on a slow-moving rollercoaster the whole time. My nerves were pretending this was some kind of date—which it wasn't. It was just skating.

Just gliding around with my ex-rival-turned-sick-patient-turned-kinda-friend. With nice eyes and dangerous smiles.

Totally normal.

When I finally got off and walked toward the building, I paused just outside.

Glacier Hall Ice Rink loomed ahead in huge, glimmering letters. A chill wind blew past me as I stared up at it, like it knew I was one bad fall away from total humiliation.

Still, I pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

The sound hit me first—skates slicing across the ice, laughter echoing through the rink, pop music humming from the overhead speakers. The place was massive, like an arctic arena. Strings of lights hung over the rink, reflecting on the glossy surface where a bunch of people were already skating around like they were born on blades.

And suddenly I was very aware of the fact that I was a beginner. A clumsy, easily-panicked beginner. Surrounded by people who would definitely see me crash and burn if I messed this up.

"Thinking of backing out?"

A low voice pulled me from my spiral.

I turned—and of course it was him.

Adrien stood there like he belonged on the cover of a winter-themed rom-com: fitted denim jeans, white hoodie peeking from under a jean jacket, and a navy baseball cap worn backward. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and his smirk?

God, it should've been illegal.

"I'm not backing out," I said quickly, trying to sound confident. "I'm actually excited to try it."

He gave me a crooked smile.

"Good. Skating's not as scary as it looks."

"Easy for you to say. You grew up living on ice."

He laughed and turned, nodding toward the rental area.

"Come on, rookie."

I followed, trying not to let my eyes linger too long on how effortlessly cool he looked, how the denim hugged his frame, how his walk had a casual kind of swagger.

Get it together, Kaia, I mentally slapped myself.

We got our skates, and he was already halfway into his when I sat down on the bench beside him.

"Here," he said, kneeling down in front of me, "Let me help."

I blinked. "You don't have to—"

"Relax. I've done this a million times."

He gently pulled my foot up, untied the laces, and tightened the skates with easy precision. I didn't say anything. I just watched him. His brows furrowed slightly in concentration, lips parted, fingers moving with care like I was some delicate puzzle he was trying to solve.

How the hell did we go from ice-cold standoffs to this?

And why did it feel like something had shifted and we were both just waiting for the other to admit it?

"Done," he said, standing up and offering me a hand.

I took it, letting him pull me to my feet.

We walked—okay, wobbled—onto the rink, and thankfully it wasn't too packed. A few couples here and there, a few show-offs doing spins, but there was room. I could breathe. And maybe fall in peace.

"Grab onto my hands," Adrien said, skating backward as if gravity didn't apply to him. "I've got you."

I stepped forward cautiously, hands reaching for his. As soon as we connected, he started guiding me gently across the ice.

"Okay, bend your knees slightly. Don't lock them. That's how you fall."

"Helpful tip," I muttered, gripping his hands like a lifeline. "Are you sure you won't let me fall just to laugh?"

He chuckled. "Tempting. But no. I like you too much for that."

My breath caught.

He what?

Before I could respond, I stumbled slightly, and he caught me with both hands at my waist.

"Whoa, careful," he said, his voice lower now, the smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Can't have you bruising that ego of yours."

"Ego's intact," I breathed, trying not to notice how close his face was to mine. "Pride? A little shaky."

"Don't worry. You're doing better than most."

"Liar."

He laughed again, and this time, I joined him. The tension melted into something lighter, playful. He showed me how to push off gently, how to shift my weight, how to trust the ice a little more each time.

And all the while, we kept talking. Flirting. Bickering.

"You're a natural," he said after a while, eyes glinting with mischief.

"Now that's a lie."

"Nope. I'm the coach, remember? I know talent when I see it."

"Oh my god, shut up."

He grinned. "Make me."

I skated forward and smacked his arm lightly.

"If I fall, I'm dragging you down with me."

"Fair trade," he said smoothly. "At least then you'll be in my arms."

I stopped short.

He didn't.

His body bumped into mine—hands instinctively gripping my waist again—and I could feel every inch of him pressed against me.

I looked up.

He looked down.

And suddenly, it felt like the air in Glacier Hall dropped ten degrees.

Or maybe it was just us heating up everything around.

"Easy," he whispered, steadying me. "You've got this."

I nodded slowly, but I wasn't thinking about skating anymore. Not when his hands were still on me. Not when his eyes kept flicking between mine and my mouth.

"Let's keep going," I said quickly, breaking the moment, needing the movement to distract me from the chaos inside my chest.

He smiled again—something softer this time. Like he knew. Like he felt it too.

And we kept skating.

God help me, I was falling.

And not just on the ice.

OoO

I was doing it. Slowly. Cautiously. But still—skating.

Adrien had let go of my hands a while ago, hovering just enough to give me space but close enough to catch me if I panicked. At first, I was stiff and overthinking every movement, but with each glide, the nerves loosened. My steps weren’t perfect, but they were mine.

Just when I looked over to smile at him, he was gone.

I turned my head, scanning for him, until I spotted him slicing across the rink like he owned it.

He was fast. Ridiculously fast.

Carving sharp lines through the ice, swerving past a few other skaters with ease, twirling like he was showing off—and I guess, knowing Adrien, he probably was. That damn backward cap, the way his denim jacket flared behind him with every turn... he was cocky and smooth and didn’t care who was watching.

I tried skating toward him, but I was slow—awkward even.

Then he locked eyes with me.

My stomach dropped.

“Don’t you dare,” I whispered under my breath.

He pushed off, racing straight toward me like he was about to bulldoze me. I froze, instinctively bracing for impact. But at the last second, he twisted sideways and came to a sharp stop, a spray of cold ice bursting onto my thighs and coat.

“Ugh! Seriously?” I yelped, brushing off the slushy mess.

He smirked, standing way too close.

“What? You looked like you needed to cool off.”

I gave him a hard stare.

“You’re lucky I don’t have something to throw at you.”

He laughed softly, then reached for my hand without a word. This time, his touch was gentle. Calming. And stupidly warm.

We skated together—his pace relaxed to match mine, our fingers still tangled. We didn’t say much for a few minutes, just moved side by side, sometimes bumping into each other, sometimes laughing when I nearly fell.

It was the kind of quiet I didn’t expect with Adrien. The kind that felt... safe.

And I hated that I liked it so much.

By the time we stepped off the rink, I was smiling like an idiot. Not because I didn’t feel like falling anymore. But because—against all odds—I was actually having fun.

We dropped off our skates and headed to the food court nearby, settling into a small corner booth with two trays of greasy food and hot chocolate that steamed up the windows beside us. I sat across from him, biting into a burger that was too big for one hand.

For a second, it felt like we were just two friends grabbing lunch.

Normal. Chill.

But of course, nothing between Adrien and I was ever really chill.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, setting down my drink.

He looked up mid-fry. “You just did.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m being serious.”

He raised a brow, the teasing fading. “Okay, shoot.”

I inhaled. “Do you know what’s going on between Amy and Nate?”

His chewing slowed. Then stopped.

He leaned back, wiped his fingers on a napkin, and looked at me.

“No. Not really.”

I studied him. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah.” His jaw flexed. “Why?”

I took a sip of my hot chocolate.

“Because they’re obviously into each other. And I just thought... since we’re not trying to kill each other today, maybe I could talk to you about it without it turning into an argument.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looked at me like he was trying to decide if I was baiting him or being genuine.

“I mean,” I added, “would it really be that bad if they were dating?”

“Yes,” he said flatly.

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because he’s my best friend. And there’s a line. You don’t cross it. It’s bro code.”

I let out a breath.

“You do realize Nate is a good guy, right? Like... the kind of guy who actually cares. And Amy likes him. So maybe... you should try not to ruin it for her.”

He gave me a dry laugh.

“That doesn’t matter. She’s my sister. And I’ve already told Nate, a long time ago—she’s off limits. End of story.”

I leaned back in the booth, staring at him.

“So you’d rather her stay single forever than date someone you trust?”

He shrugged. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what is it about?”

He looked away, jaw tight.

“It’s just... weird, okay? Too close. Too personal. I don’t want my best friend thinking about my sister like that. And I don’t want to hear about it every time they fight or break up.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay. So... she’s off limits to your friends.”

“Yes.”

“Got it,” I said. Then I looked him right in the eyes. “But you know that goes both ways, right?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” I set my cup down. “If Amy’s off limits to your friends... then you’re off limits to her friends.”

His frown deepened. “What?”

“Girl code,” I said simply. “Amy and I have been best friends since we moved into the same dorm room together. You think she’d be okay with me hanging out with you like this? Going skating? Laughing? Texting?”

He blinked again, slower this time.

“I’m not saying I want to break that code,” I added, forcing my voice to stay calm. “But if you’re going to enforce your own rules, you can’t expect Amy to just sit back and be fine with me breaking ours.”

He didn’t speak. Just stared at me.

A long, unreadable look that made my skin feel like it was buzzing.

And I knew—I knew—he got it. That everything I just said was soaking in.

Because truthfully... I wasn’t just defending Amy and Nate.

I was defending myself. My feelings. This weird, confusing pull between us that we kept dancing around.

“I just don’t want her to be mad at me,” I said softer now. “And I don’t want to pretend like this—” I gestured between us, “—isn’t a thing. Because if you keep holding onto this ‘off limits’ rule, it’s not just going to hurt them. It’s gonna hurt us too.”

Adrien stayed quiet for a long time.

Then he looked down at his hands, his brows furrowed like he was working through a hundred different thoughts at once.

And from the look in his eyes, I could tell—

He was finally starting to understand the problem with building walls so high... is eventually, someone you want to let in can’t reach you.

Even when they’re sitting right in front of you.

Even when their hand is inches away.

Even when they’re already halfway in.