Chapter 58 Chapter 58

Chapter 58 Chapter 58
HAYDEN

The rink was quiet at night. No buzzing crowd, no echo of whistles or shouts from teammates, just the low hum of the refrigeration system and the faint squeak of my blades as I stepped out onto the ice. The fluorescent lights overhead gave everything a pale, almost magical glow.

Coleen’s laugh broke the silence as she shuffled cautiously behind me. “I still don’t know why I agreed to this again.”

“Because you secretly love embarrassing yourself in front of me,” I called over my shoulder, grinning.

She rolled her eyes, wobbling as she clutched the wall. “Please. The only one who’s going to be embarrassed is you, when I fall flat on my face and sue you for damages.”

I skated back toward her, stopping just close enough that our blades nearly touched. “Relax. No lawsuits necessary. I’ve got you.”

Her gaze flicked up to mine, doubtful but amused. “You sound way too confident for someone who hasn’t seen me on skates in years.”

“True,” I admitted, offering my hand. “But I’m also highly motivated. Mark still thinks I can’t skate backwards without looking like a giraffe, and I need to prove him wrong. Consider this training.”

That earned me a laugh. “And somehow I caught a stray bullet because you both have some challenge you're not willing to take on. You two are ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously competitive, yes,” I said, smirking. “Now come on.”

She hesitated before sliding her hand into mine. Her glove was warm, and even through the layers I felt the pressure of her fingers tightening as she stepped carefully onto the ice.

“Okay, slow,” I murmured, skating backward slowly, guiding her forward.

Coleen’s eyes widened. “You’re literally doing the giraffe thing right now.”

I groaned. “You’ve been spending too much time with Mark.”

“Or maybe he just knows you too well,” she teased, wobbling again before clinging to my arm.

I caught her easily, steadying her. The contact sent a ripple of warmth through me, the kind that had nothing to do with the temperature of the rink.

“There,” I said quietly. “See? I told you I’ve got you.”

She glanced up, and for a second our eyes locked. Something flickered between us, unspoken but undeniable. Then she looked away quickly, cheeks flushed.

We made slow laps around the rink, her clinging to my arm, sometimes both arms, whenever she felt like she was about to fall. I didn’t mind. In fact, I slowed down on purpose just so she wouldn’t let go.

At one point, she stumbled and practically collided into me, her laughter echoing off the empty stands. I steadied her, hands on her waist.

“Wow,” she breathed, catching her balance. “That was almost a disaster.”

“Correction,” I said, still holding her. “That was me saving your life.”

She raised a brow. “From tripping over a skate blade?”

“Every hero has to start somewhere.”

Her laugh was soft but genuine. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” I said, grinning, “you keep showing up to these late-night dates with me.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t pull away. For a moment, we just stood there in the middle of the rink, close enough that I could see the way her breath puffed in small clouds in the cold air.

Eventually, we slid to a stop near the bench, both of us catching our breath. I tugged off my gloves and sat, patting the spot beside me.

Coleen joined me, tugging at the hem of her coat as she looked out at the empty ice. “It’s weird seeing the rink like this. Quiet. Peaceful.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “It’s usually chaos when I’m out here.”

She gave me a small smile. “I can see why you love it, though.”

I shrugged, leaning back. “It’s home, I guess. The only place that’s always made sense.”

She was quiet for a moment, tracing circles on the bench with her glove. Then, almost too softly to hear, she said, “That must be nice. To have a place that feels that steady.”

Something in her tone made me look at her more closely. Her shoulders were tense, her gaze fixed on the ice, like she was fighting with herself.

“Coleen?” I asked gently.

She hesitated, then sighed. “I’ve never really… trusted someone like this before.” Her voice cracked just a little, but she didn’t stop. “It’s scary. Letting someone in. Letting you in.”

I stayed quiet, letting her words hang in the air. She turned toward me finally, eyes shining in a way that made my chest ache.

“I keep waiting for the part where it all falls apart,” she admitted. “Where I mess it up. Or you realize I’m not worth the trouble.”

I reached out without thinking, brushing her gloved hand with mine. “Hey. Look at me.”

She did, reluctantly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said quietly. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I just… want to be here. With you. However slow you want to take it.”

Her breath caught, and for a second I thought she might cry. But instead, she let out a shaky laugh. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” I said honestly. “But I think you’re worth it.”

She looked at me for a long moment, searching my face. Then she leaned back against the bench, exhaling slowly.

“You know,” she said after a pause, “Mark’s going to hold that over your head forever.”

I laughed, grateful for the shift. “Yeah, well, if he wants a skating challenge, he better be ready. Because after tonight, you’re practically an expert.”

Coleen snorted. “If by expert you mean world-class at falling into you.”

“Hey,” I said, nudging her shoulder. “That’s my favorite part.”

We stayed like that for a while, side by side, watching the empty rink stretch out before us. Her shoulder brushed mine occasionally, and neither of us moved away. The silence wasn’t heavy anymore. It was comfortable.

And even though there wasn’t a kiss, even though we hadn’t crossed that line tonight, the tension was still there, simmering, steady, waiting.

For once, I was okay with waiting.