With a smile playing on the edges of my lips, I take a look around.

The overhead lights in the stadium are turned off, and the only light comes from the glittery disco-ball overhead. It throws tiny silver drops of light all over the ice. It almost looks magical.

Justin presses a button on his phone and all around us, low music fills the silence. He leads me over to the bench where there’s a fuzzy plaid blanket, two pairs of skates and a thermos.

“We have the whole place to ourselves,” he says softly, meeting my eyes.

My confusion gives way to a smile. We haven’t skated together in years. We used to all the time growing up, but somewhere along the way, that stopped.

It’s crazy how the chill in the air, and even the smell of the ice can spark up nostalgia. This is us. Our history. And he planned the entire thing without me knowing.

“This is amazing,” I murmur, following him to the bench where I take a seat.

He pours me a mug of hot cocoa, which I sip while he kneels before me to lace up my skates.

Then he takes off his shoes and puts on his own skates while I watch, finishing my cocoa.

“Ready?” he asks, grinning mischievously at me.

“Yes, but I’m going to be a little rusty.”

He offers me his hand and I take it, following him out onto the ice. He glides effortlessly along, keeping a firm hold on my hips so I don’t fall.

The breeze lifts my hair and I watch him, feeling deliriously happy as we move across the ice together.

Justin leans down and steals a kiss, chuckling. “You taste like chocolate.”

It’s been a month since we officially started dating and came clean to my brother, and every day seems better than the last.

“This is pretty much the best date ever,” I laugh, clinging to his biceps.

“I’m glad you approve. I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”

I like it for so many reasons. Because it reminds me of our childhood, and because it’s just so him. I like that we’re not at a hoity-toity restaurant surrounded by people and pretense, and I can rest my head on his chest as he holds me.

“I love it,” I say, meeting his eyes.

He touches my cheek, tucking my hair behind my shoulder as he gazes down at me. “I love you.”

Emotion lodges in my throat and tears well in my eyes. It’s the first time he’s said those words, and a tidal wave of emotion threatens to knock me over. Being on skates doesn’t help.

Justin lowers his lips to mine as we slow in the center of the ice. “Don’t cry, baby.”

“I love you too,” I murmur, bringing my hands around his neck. Raising on tiptoes isn’t possible in skates, so I urge him lower. Dipping his head toward mine, Justin captures my lips in the sweetest kiss.

30

* * *

Those Three Little Words

Justin

I love you too.

Hearing those words on Elise’s lips is the sweetest sound. And not just because I know she really does love me, but because for me—someone who’s spent much of his life feeling unlovable—feeling like a total fuck up—it means everything to me.

I’ve spent a decade working my ass off to make it in the pros, and then all my downtime partaking in all the carnal pleasures life had to offer, but none of it made me feel the way I do when I’m with her. I feel whole. For the first time in a long time. Maybe ever.

Leaning down, I place my lips against hers and give Elise a slow, tender kiss. We skate for a little while longer, her arms wrapped around my waist to steady herself, and my chin resting on the top of her head.

“Are you getting cold?” I ask after a while.

Elise looks up at me and nods. “A little.”

“Come on then. Let’s go warm you up.”

We finish up on the ice and I maneuver us back to the bench.

I help Elise remove her skates, and she grins, watching me the entire time.

My phone pings from beside us on the bench and I grab it, seeing my mom’s name appear. When I read her text, I let out a slight groan.

Elise frowns. “What is it?”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing. It’s just that my mom’s been asking me about my Thanksgiving plans.”

Elise nods. “So … are you going to go home for the holiday?”

I’ve spent many holidays—Christmases, Thanksgivings, and Easter dinners with the Parrish family—always tagging along with Owen. Usually because my own parents were either fighting, or vacationing with their new significant others, or just too caught up in their own lives to think about including me. And because Elise and Owen’s parents never made me feel like I was intruding. They were always nothing but welcoming, although I can’t help but wonder if this year will be different now that I’m dating their daughter. God, I hope not, because they’re pretty much the only family I have.

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

Elise knows about the complicated relationship I have with my parents, and she never judges me for it. “Maybe we should go together,” she suggests.

I meet her eyes. “You would do that?”

She nods, grinning. “Of course I would.” She stands and slips her feet into her shoes while I work on removing my own skates. “In fact, I think it’d be fun. We could do dinner at your mom’s and then dessert with my parents.”

Her eyes are alight and her cheeks are bright. I can tell what she’s thinking—that it’ll be our official coming out as a couple. It’s not a bad idea. We’re going to need to do that soon anyway. I still haven’t exactly hammered things out with Owen. He’s stayed out of my way, and I’ve tried not to parade my relationship with his sister around in front of his face. But it’s all going to need to come out in the open eventually, because my days of sneaking around with her are behind me. I want everyone to know we’re a couple.

“Let’s do it,” I say.

Elise grins, and I can’t help stealing one last kiss.

“Come on. I have one more surprise to show you.”

Her pretty gray eyes narrow on mine, and she nods. “I can hardly wait.”

? ? ?

“You saved them all these years?” Elise asks, turning the homemade knit mittens over in her hands. “Why? I don’t understand.”

After we’d arrived home from the ice arena, I’d led her to my bedroom and sat her on the edge of the bed. Then I’d hunted through my walk-in closet until I found the box marked Home. I wanted to show her something I’ve kept with me all these years. The pair of mittens she’d knitted for me were mismatched and coming undone, but I’d loved them all the same. One was gray and blue, the other gray and purple. She’d ran out of blue yarn, she’d said and purple had been her favorite color back then. Elise had been thirteen. I’d just turned seventeen when she gave me these on Christmas Day. It had been a hard year. I’d moved out of my mom’s house and into my dad’s, hoping things at home would be better for me, only they hadn’t. My dad had started a new family with a woman he barely knew and I was an afterthought.

“You made them for me. Of course I kept them.”

She grins at me and tries them on, wiggling her fingers. “I’m glad I gave up knitting. These are awful.”

While it was true that the weave wasn’t tight enough to keep the cold out, they weren’t awful. She’d spent hours working on them. Delicately crafting them with her own two hands. That meant something to me.

“I love you,” I say, pulling each mitten off and setting them aside.

Elise falls back onto the pillows and tugs me down on top of her. I love how confident she is, how she has no problem initiating physical intimacy between us.

She parts her legs and I nestle between them, softly rubbing my firm body over her soft one.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers, breath trembling against my mouth.

I cradle her face in my hands and my heart aches when I meet her concerned gray eyes. “I hate that I hurt you before. I swear I was only trying to protect you.”

“From what?” she murmurs.

“Me.”

Elise brings her fingertips to my lips and touches them once before leaning in for a soft kiss. “You don’t need to do that. I’m a big girl. I know what I want.”

I shift beneath her, adjusting my inconvenient erection trapped between us. “Yeah? And what is it that you want?”

Without another word, she reaches one hand in between us, palming me through my pants, tempting me, wrapping me snugly in her fist. “This. You. Everything.”

I sigh and find her mouth again, capturing it in a long kiss before finally pulling away. “You have me. My whole heart. I think you always did.”

At my confession, she smiles and then the time for talking is done, because she works her hand under the elastic of my boxers and strokes me in long, lazy pulls that make me groan softly against her lips.