44
OLIVIA
“ T his is long overdue,” Tuck says.
“Are you sure we can’t put it off a little longer?” I ask, my voice warbly with nerves.
“Absolutely, positively sure.” He steps backward, placing his skates on the ice. I still stand just at the threshold of the rink, my hands in his.
The last time I tried to rollerblade, which was about eleven years ago, it took me a minute and a half to fall, skin my elbow, and smack my chin right on the asphalt in front of my friend Cassidy’s house.
I’m not athletically inclined, okay? And just think of how much harder ice skating must be than rollerblading!
“Come on, Lockley,” Tuck says, that signature mixture of teasing and encouragement in his voice. “You can do anything, so you can sure as hell do this .”
I take a deep breath and place my right skate on the ice.
“Halfway there,” Tuck coaxes.
I narrow my eyes on him, and he throws his head back with a laugh. After another long, fortifying breath, I squeeze Tuck’s hands extra tight and set my left skate down on the ice.
“Break a leg,” Tuck says with a wink.
“Not funny,” I grouse, beaming a scowl at him. Tuck’s booming laugh in response, however, says we differ on that point.
“Just hold on,” Tuck says. He skates backward, and I bend my knees, trying to keep stabilized as he pulls me along with him. “See? Not so hard.”
I straighten my knees a little bit, trying to get my bearings on these thin metal blades. Tuck coaches me on how to push off with one skate and glide forward on the other, and soon enough, I’m tentatively skating forward while he’s skating backward, our hands clasped together, both of us moving around the rink as one.
“Fuck, Olivia,” Tuck says, his voice suddenly heavy with awe. “Your eyes.”
“My eyes?” I ask. I blink. “What about them?”
He turns one of his blades, bringing him to a sudden stop. I keep gliding forward, straight into his chest. He wraps his arms around me and looks down at me, his gaze hooded and boring into my own.
“Did you know that the human eye can see more shades of green than any other color?” he asks.
“No,” I shake my head.
“That fact feels like a gift from the universe to me. No matter what color your eyes were, I’d never get tired of looking at them. But the fact that every time I look in your eyes, I’ll see more shades, more specks of color, than I would in anyone else’s, that just feels like fate winking at me for falling for the right girl.”
Tuck’s lips close over mine, and I kiss him with the thrill of knowing that we have a lifetime of kisses ahead of us.