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My heart clenches at the lost expression on his face. I reach over and give his thigh a gentle squeeze. “It’s not your fault, Gerard. You grew up here. This is your normal.”

I don’t tell him that the hockey world isn’t much different from Elk Valley.

“I just hate the thought of anyone treating you differently because of your race,” he says.

At the next red light, I lean over the center console and kiss him, showing my gratitude for the amazing person he is.

29

GERARD

Learning that my hometown isn’t as kind, considerate, and welcoming as I always believed has thrown me for a loop. I’ve always taken great pride in where I grew up. But now, I don’t know what to think or believe.

Well, no. That’s not entirely true. IbelieveElliot and what he’s telling me. IknowI don’t see skin color when I look at him. It’s never been a factor in my feelings for the grumpy librarian. But I can’t dwell on my neighbors right now because Elliot is currently freaking out about stepping foot on the frozen lake behind my childhood home.

My parents are already at the hotel in Denver for Lily’s cheer competition tomorrow. We have the whole house to ourselves. When I gave Elliot a tour, he spotted the lake in the backyard and casually mentioned he didn’t know how to ice skate.

Immediately, I bolted for the garage like I was racing for the puck in overtime. I grabbed a pair of my dad’s old hockey skates for me—yep, he has big feet, too—and found a pair of figure skates that belonged to my mom. She has tiny feet, so they should fit Elliot’s like they’re Cinderella’s glass slippers.

I can’t stop the huge grin from spreading across my face as I lace up my skates on the bench beside the lake. Elliot is nervouslyeyeing the frozen surface as if it might swallow him whole at any second. He’s a cutie, bundled up in my old Elk Valley Elks letterman jacket, with his glasses slightly fogged and cheeks rosy from the cold.

“Are you sure this is safe?” he asks skeptically after I make him sit on the bench so I can tie his laces for him. “What if the ice cracks, and we fall through into the freezing water, get hypothermia, and die?”

I stand up and hold my gloved hands out to him. “Elliot, I promise you the ice is plenty thick. I’ve been skating on this lake since I was old enough to walk. Trust me, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Elliot stares up at me, worry swirling in his captivating brown eyes. But after a moment, he nods and places his mitten-clad hands in mine, letting me pull him to his feet. He wobbles like a newborn deer, so I wrap an arm securely around his waist to steady him.

“I’ve got you.” I hold him against my side and shuffle to the edge of the lake. “We’ll take it nice and slow. Just keep holding onto me.”

Elliot grips my arm as I guide us onto the ice. His legs tremble and nearly slip out from under him with every tiny movement, but I maintain a firm hold on his slim hips.

“See? Not too bad, right?” I press my cheek to Elliot’s wool beanie.

“Okay, it’s not quite as terrifying as I imagined,” Elliot admits begrudgingly. “Although that might be because I have a giant hockey player to cling to, so I don’t fall and crack my head open.”

“Glad to be of service.” I kiss Elliot’s cold-reddened nose before spinning us in a slow circle. “Just wait until I have you doing twirls and jumps. You’ll be a regular Michelle Kwan in no time!”

Elliot gawks at me. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Gretzky. Baby steps.”

I beamwith pride as Elliot takes his first few wobbly strides on the ice without my help. His face is a blend of intense concentration and barely contained terror, but he’s doing it. He’s skating on his own.

“That’s it, babe! You’ve got this.”

Elliot gives a shaky smile, but it quickly turns into panic when one of his skates slides out from under him. He flails his arms, trying to regain his balance, but gravity wins out, and he lands hard on his butt with a surprised “oof!”

I quickly skate over to him and drop to my knees beside him on the ice. I check him over for signs of injury. “Are you okay? Did you hurt anything?”

He winces as he shifts into a sitting position. “Only my pride. And maybe my tailbone.”

I chuckle at his adorably disgruntled expression. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s not funny.” I school my features into something more sympathetic. “Here, let me help you up.”

Carefully, I pull Elliot to his feet. He sways and grabs my arms to steady himself. “I think I’m done for the day. Ice skating is clearlyyourthing, not mine.”

“Hey, none of that,” I chide gently, ducking my head to meet his eyes. “You were doing great! Falling is all part of the learning process. When I started, I spent more time sprawled on the ice like a goofy-looking penguin than standing upright.”

“Somehow, I doubt that, Mr. NHL prospect.”

“Okay, you got me,” I admit with a grin. “I’m a natural. But seriously, Elliot, don’t give up now. I promise it gets easier the more you practice. We’ll go a little longer, okay? Please? For me?”