Page 35

We keep going, lap after lap, until our rhythm becomes second nature and I forget how terrified I am. The music shifts to something slower—"Unsteady" by X Ambassadors—and, for a moment, it feels like we’re the only ones on the ice.

He skates backward in front of me, holding my hands. "You’re actually not bad," he says, one brow raised.

"I’m a fast learner."

"Mmm," he hums, pulling me closer. "Or maybe you just trust me."

I don’t answer because I don’t need to. He knows.

By the time the ice starts to get packed, my legs are burning and my cheeks ache from smiling.

"I need a break," I say, panting softly. "My ankles hate me."

He laughs and nods. "Come on, Little Lamb."

He leads me off the ice and helps me settle onto a nearby bench, crouching down to unlace my skates.

For the next hour, he barely leaves my side as we mingle, sip hot cocoa, and chat with donors and friends. Anytime someone tries to pull me away for too long, he finds an excuse to bring me back.

I don’t know what this is between us. But tonight, it feels like something real. Something that won’t disappear the second our masks come off.

We're about to get our skates back on to give the ice another go when Aidric skates up to the wall. "Incoming," he mutters under his breath, eyes darting behind us.

I follow his gaze and spot Detective Klein walking down the stands in our direction. He's looking smug as hell in a black trench coat and simple silver mask.

"Well," Klein says smoothly as he approaches us. "Quite the turnout. I’ll admit, you boys know how to throw a spectacle."

Aidric’s jaw clenches as he steps off the ice, towering us all with his skates on. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It’s a public event," Klein says smoothly. "Why wouldn’t I attend?"

I step to the side, watching the tension unfold with my heart lodged in my throat. The last time I saw Detective Klein, he was in my dorm, grilling me with questions. To say I’m on edge would be a massive understatement.

Sebastian’s voice drops "Cut the shit, Klein. What do you really want?"

Klein steps closer, lowering his voice. "I’ve seen your little heist work firsthand. Impressive, but sloppy. Breaking into my office was a bold move. But have you ever considered that maybe I’m not the enemy."

Aidric scoffs. "Bullshit."

Klein’s gaze flicks to me, then back to them. "You want to protect your people? Maybe I do, too. That rock ended up in the wrong hands. Perhaps I was simply protecting a sacred artifact."

A sacred artifact I had. Klein had no way of knowing it was actually safe in my hands. Even if at that time, it was debatable.

Sebastian narrows his eyes. "Why should we believe anything you say?"

Klein leans in slightly, his voice barely audible. "Because the enemy you’re chasing doesn’t wear a badge."

With that, he gives a tight nod and turns, heading back up the stands.

Sebastian and Aidric exchange a look—Sebastian’s full of questions, Aidric’s burning with suspicion.

"I don’t trust him," Aidric grits out.

Sebastian exhales. "I don’t either. But maybe we can’t afford not to listen."

With a low growl, Aidric steps back onto the ice and skates away. Sebastian and I stare at each other for a long minute before he finally says, "Come with me. It’s tense as hell in here, and I want to show you something."

With our skates slung over his shoulder, he takes my hand and leads me away from the rink, through the crowd and toward the arena entrance.

After a quick stop at the locker room to drop off our skates, he guides me into a narrow service hallway that smells faintly like popcorn.

"Where in the world are we going?" I ask as we start up a flight of stairs.

The corner of his mouth tugs up. "You’ll see."

Once we're at the top, he pushes open a heavy metal door, and we’re hit with a gust of cool night air. It swirls around us as we step out onto a secluded rooftop above the main entryway of the arena.

It's quiet up here, aside from the distant echo of music and laughter below. The stars spill across the sky like diamonds trying to show off just for us.

"This is my favorite place," Sebastian says, pushing his mask up onto his head. "You can see everything—the sky, the city, the whole damn world feels quiet here."

"It's breathtaking," I say, eyes on the sky.

I turn toward him, my heart pounding in my chest. The way that he looks around makes it clear just how special this spot is to him, and my stomach twists, not knowing what to do or how to act.

Sebastian and I don’t do nice; we hardly tolerate each other. We do sarcasm and bickering. We do jabs and backhanded compliments. We don’t do whatever this is.

"Why’d you bring me here?" I finally ask, my voice trembling slightly.

He hesitates, then closes the space between us. His hand lifts, fingers brushing against my cheek as he slides my mask up until it rests on the top of my head. "Because I wanted to share it with someone who’d appreciate silence in the midst of chaos."

I open my mouth to respond, but the words never make it out because in the next breath, his lips are on mine.

This kiss is nothing like the others. It’s slow and deep, the kind that doesn’t feel like a mistake or a game.

His hand cups the side of my face, fingers threading into my hair. I breathe him in, savoring the scent of everything I’ve been trying to resist. When we finally pull apart, I still feel the kiss deep in my chest.

With his hands still cradling my cheeks, I smirk as his thumb grazes my bottom lip. "So that’s why you brought me here."

Sebastian shrugs, dimples cutting deep as a slow smile spreads across his face. "Nah," he says. "That was just a bonus."

I tilt my head slightly to the left, studying him. "What are we doing, Sebastian?"

His brows lift, a grin tugging at his lips. "Hmm," he muses, glancing up at the sky. "I think we’re standing on a rooftop under the stars, feeling the bass of a party thumping under our feet."

I laugh softly, but steady my voice when I press, "That’s not what I mean. What are we doing? Do you hate me? Want me? Like me? Loathe me?"

He meets my gaze head-on, his smirk unwavering. "All of the above."

My heart pounds as I stare at him. God help me, I think I’m falling for him.

It’s not just the banter or the way he protects me; it’s the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Like I’m not some burden he’s stuck with, but someone he chose to fight for.

And maybe it’s reckless and wrong, but I think I’m falling for him.

Before I can stop myself, I lean in again, and this time he meets me halfway. Our mouths crash together, desperate and sure. His hands find my waist, pulling me in until there’s no space left between us. I feel his undeniable hardness pressing into my hip and my breath hitches.

Sebastian groans into my mouth, like the sound’s been hiding in his chest and finally breaks free.

I kiss him harder as the rest of the world falls away. My heart skips, all logic dissolving until it's just us. His warmth, our need, this burning passion we keep trying to fight but can no longer ignore.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes between us, cutting through the moment.

I pull back just enough to glance at the screen and see a text from Brogan.

B: Tribute video is about to roll. Where are you?

My lips part, still brushing his. "We should go," I whisper. "The video’s starting soon."

Sebastian presses his forehead to mine, breathing hard. "Right."

His hand slides down my waist until his fingers wrap around mine, then we step apart and go back into the arena.

As we're going down the stairs, he glances at me with a look that says, "this isn't over." And I feel it in my fucking soul.