“You haven’t fallen again, right?”
“That’s because you’re holding onto me.”
“You’re still on your feet because you’re not worrying about falling.”
“Hmm. Distraction. I like it.”
Gliding backward, holding her tight against him, he pulled her along.
“Ooo,” she squeaked, full grin in place. “I’m skating.”
“Getting there,” he crooned. He felt like he was encouraging a young foal on its first steps. “Now, we’re going to move a few inches. Look up at me.” Dumb idea. What color were those eyes? Brown or green or gray? Hazel didn’t quite capture it.
Her smile faltered, her lip tugged between her teeth again as she watched him, humor fading.
“See? It’s easier if you look up and don’t think about what you’re doing. It’s like sex, natural and exhilarating once you get the rhythm.”
That full-bodied, rolling laugh warmed him to the core. Distracted, she didn’t seem to notice they were nearly halfway around the lap. He grinned and gestured to their feet with his eyes, holding her tight so she wouldn’t slip when she looked down.
“Hey, I’m really skating,” she beamed. Her feet wobbled a little, but she brought her eyes back to his and steadied herself again.
As they relaxed and she seemed to catch on, he loosened his grip and moved to her side. At the loss of stability, he could sense her impending panic. “Define complicated.”
Her back straightened and her gaze shifted to the far wall of the rink. At least she wasn’t thinking about falling. “Complicated isn’t the right word, I guess. I’m in one of those weird transitional moments in life, and I’m not sure I’m on the right track. It’s like I can see light at the end of the tunnel, but did I turn down the right tunnel?”
“That’s profound. I’m in a similar jam myself. I assumed forty would be the midlife crisis birthday, but turning thirty is kicking my ass. And I can’t help but berate myself for still feeling like a stupid kid when I was supposed to be a grownup by now.” Her hand relaxed in his and they synchronously glided around the rink.
“Exactly. By my thirtieth birthday, I was supposed to be married with at least one kid and established in my career. The career thing is fine. I mean, I started a little later than I’d planned, but I’m there. It’s the other parts that aren’t going according to schedule.”
“I’ve got a friend that has had her life mapped out since she was in elementary school and hasn’t strayed from it yet. I don’t know how she keeps it all rolling. Life is riddled with complications.”
“You might be right. I suppose it’s not too late to take a different tunnel.”
“Or even take the scenic route.”
They neared the exit. She began to pull away, but he didn’t want it to end. Now or ever. He wasn’t waiting around until it was too late this time. “I know you’re probably just in town visiting, but while you’re here, if you want to—”
“I can’t. I...” she interrupted as she made for the exit. Steadier now, she stepped off the ice. “I’m such a jerk. I shouldn’t have... I’m with someone.” The wave of guilt wafting off her was palpable.
“Of course. I didn’t... I mean... You’re gorgeous and funny, and I did want to ask you out, but I get it. I hope everything works out for you.” And, as usual, he was too late.
“Thanks for the rescue.” Her lusciously pink lips turned up in a half smile, her eyebrows pulled together in consternation. She glanced back to the ice like she wanted to say something else, but wouldn’t. “Bye.”
Grady watched as the woman of his dreams walked away on wobbly legs. Out of his reach, as usual. Story of his life.
