Page 218 of Broken Brothers

She was also overly encouraging, coming up from behind and pushing into me to make me go faster.

“Come on, Chance!” she said, giggling. “I’m only in New York for a little bit! Come fly with me!”

“Alright, alright,” I said, picking up the pace and moving my skates down.

I leaned my body forward as the two of us sped by just about everyone else. She nodded to me, as if daring me to race her. My competitive juices got the better of me; I was a fighter by nature, but it was perhaps better said I was a competitor by nature.

“Two laps, let’s go!” I said, getting a jump start on her.

The advantage didn’t last long, though, because Sarah soon caught up to me. I was fast, but she had just a little more speed. The one thing I did have she didn’t, though, was a little gamesmanship.

Right before she passed me, I grabbed the back of her top and pulled her in.

“Hey now!” she shouted.

“You didn’t say anything about what the rules were!” I shouted over my head as I went past her.

My lead lasted for about ten seconds. Then, unexpectedly, I felt her grab my jeans pockets—a perhaps not so subtle way of grabbing or feeling my ass—before she pulled me back.

“Two can play that game, Chance!” she shouted.

It quickly devolved into a game of grab, weave, and speed ahead. We made our last bank to the straightaway, and I gave everything I had. I grabbed to her jacket, held her, and sprinted ahead at the last second.

I won. But I almost went too fast, because I had to skid and press myself up against the nearby wall before I smashed into it or someone else. Half a second later, Sarah did the same, sliding right up onto me, her body close enough to…

“That was a hell of a race,” she said.

“Too bad you lost,” I teased. “I think loser should have to do something.”

“Yeah?” she said, locking eyes with me.

Oh shit. She thinks I’m about to kiss her. She thinks I’m going to pull her in.

“What are you going to make me do, Chance?”

Her eyes were fluttering before me. My heart was beating so hard it felt like I had heartburn. My breathing was heavy, and it had nothing to do with the race we just ran.

I bit my lips, which I realized made them wet, suggesting even more that I was going to kiss her. I thought of how long it had been since I’d kissed her… how I’d lost her… how I’d felt so unjustified, so robbed of what could have been… and here I had it…

And you go down this path, you lose everything you’ve worked for. You lose everything that you wanted to move slowly for. All because you went too fast with someone else.

“I’m going to make you buy me a drink,” I said, pulling my head up.

Sarah barely held her disappointment. I couldn’t blame her. In her spot, I would have expected a kiss too. If it had been literally any other situation, not only would I have kissed her, I would have done so passionately and intensely.

But…

I kept thinking about Layla. I kept thinking about my adopted parents and my actual parents. In the moment in which I could have kissed Sarah—and I didn’t mean the buildup to it, I meant the actual split moment in which I chose to lean back instead of forward—those were the thoughts that dominated my mind.

The people who have shown they love me. Not the people who say they love me or who might love me.

“OK,” she said. “Where do you have in mind?”

The tone in her voice was like I had deflated a balloon. But I felt like I’d made the right decision. I didn’t think Sarah was going to be my friend after this, but at least now I could move on.

Well, that was the idea. In practice…

“Let’s just walk around and find a place.”