Page 11 of Rookie’s Redemption (Iron Ridge Icehawks #5)

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Mia mutters as we find a bench to change. "If I break my ankle, I'm blaming you."

"If you break your ankle, I'll carry you to the hospital myself."

"How very noble of you."

I lace up my skates while she struggles with hers, swearing under her breath at the tight fit.

"Here," I say, kneeling in front of her to help with the laces. "You want them snug but not cutting off circulation."

"I remember how to lace skates, Ryder."

"Do you? Because right now you look like you're trying to perform surgery."

She kicks me lightly with her free foot, but she's smiling so big the little dimple I adore so much appears.

I stand and offer her my hand, heart pounding like a drum in my chest. "Ready?"

"Absolutely not."

She takes my hand anyway and the first few steps onto the ice are predictably wobbly. Mia grips my hand like a lifeline, her ankles threatening to betray her at every glide.

"I'm going to fall and take you down with me," she warns with a wobble.

"Then we'll fall together. Wouldn't be the first time."

"When did we ever fall together?"

"Sophomore year, when I tried to teach you to play hockey. You took out my legs and we both went down so hard Coach made me run suicides for a week."

"That was your fault for assuming I'd be graceful with a stick in my hands."

"You asked me to teach you!"

"I wanted to impress you, not commit accidental assault."

We glide slowly around the outer edge of the rink, her confidence growing with each lap. Her grip on my hand loosens from desperate to companionable, and soon she's moving with something approaching grace.

"See?" I say, skating backward so I can face her. "Natural athlete."

"Don't push it, Scott. I'm still one wobbly moment away from disaster."

But she's moving more freely now, the worry lines around her eyes softening. A group of kids races past us, shrieking with laughter, and Mia's smile widens.

"This is nice," she admits. "When's the last time you skated just for fun?"

"Honestly? Probably high school. Everything since then has been training or games or trying to prove something."

"That's sad."

"Yeah, it kind of is." I reach for her other hand, skating backward and pulling her forward in a slow, easy rhythm. "I forgot how good it feels to just... glide."

We skate for a while, other couples drifting past us, lost in their own little worlds, and for a moment I can almost pretend this is normal. That we're just Ryder and Mia, together again.

"The puppies are going to be okay," I say eventually.

"I think so. Mrs. Henderson offered to foster two of them once they're old enough, and the Martinezes want one. That's three homes already."

"And the shelter? How are you managing the costs?"

Her expression clouds slightly. "I'll figure it out. We always do."

"Mia—"

"I don't want to talk about money tonight, okay? This is nice. Let's just keep it nice."

I want to tell her about the charity night, about the plans Sophia and Lucy are putting together even as we speak. But something holds me back. Maybe it's the peaceful look on her face, or the way she's finally starting to relax.

Or maybe it's because I want this moment to be about us, not about solving her problems.

"Okay," I agree. "No work talk. Tell me something else."

"Like what?"

"Anything. What do you do when you're not saving animals or cleaning up after my disaster attempts at helping?"

She laughs. "That implies I have free time."

"Come on. There must be something."

"I read," she admits. "Romance novels, mostly. The trashier the better."

"Seriously?"

"Don't judge me. Sometimes a girl needs to escape into a world where the hot guy always gets the girl and nobody's life is held together with duct tape and coffee."

"I'm not judging. I think it's cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah. The idea that you believe in happy endings, even after..." I trail off, not wanting to ruin the moment by bringing up the past.

"Even after you broke my heart?" she finishes quietly.

"Yeah."

She's quiet for a moment too long, and I worry I've pushed too far. But then she squeezes my hands.

"Lucky for you, I still believe in happy endings," she says. "Maybe that makes me na?ve, but I've seen too many broken things heal to give up on the possibility."

"Like the puppies."

"Like the puppies. Like the three-legged dog who learned to run again. Like the cat who was so traumatized she wouldn't let anyone touch her, but now she sleeps in my office every night."

"And like us?" I ask quietly.

She looks up at me, her hazel eyes serious in the soft light. "I don't know yet."

It's not a no. And right now, that's enough.

"Speaking of healing," I say, my heart hammering against my ribs, "I have something to tell you."

"Oh God. What did you do?"

I laugh and throw my head back. She knows me too well. Even after all this time.

"Well… On Saturday night, the game against Montreal… Sophia and Lucy have helped me organize something."

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. "What kind of something?"

"A fundraiser night. For Tails & Paws."

Mia stops skating so abruptly I have to grab her arms to keep us both upright.

"You what?"

"A fundraiser event at The Nest. All proceeds go to the shelter." The words tumble out in a nervous rush. "I know you hate accepting help, but I couldn't just watch you run yourself into the ground trying to do everything alone."

For a long moment, she just stares at me. And then, to my absolute horror, her eyes fill with tears.

"Mia, shit, I'm sorry. If you don't want to do it, we can call it off. One message to Sophia and it's finished. I should have asked first, but I wanted to surprise you, and—"

"Shut up," she whispers.

"What?"

"Just... shut up for a second."

She's crying, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stares at me like I've just performed some kind of miracle.

"You organized a charity night. For my shelter." She laughs through her tears, the sound watery as she shakes her head repeatedly. "I can't believe you did that."

"Believe it. Lucy's been posting about it non-stop, I'm surprised she didn't give away the surprise. We might actually raise enough to get you that new AC unit you've been needing."

"Ryder..." She shakes her head, like she can't quite process what I'm telling her. "This is too much. I can't let you—"

"Yes, you can." I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks. "You've been carrying this alone for too long, Mia. Let me help. Let the whole damn town help."

"Why?" she whispers. "After everything that happened, why would you do this for me?"

"Because I love you," I say simply. "I never stopped loving you, Mia. And I know I have no right to say that after what I did, and I don't expect you to say it back. But it's true. It's been true every single day for eight years."

Her breath catches, and for a heartbeat, neither of us moves.

Then she rises up on her skates and kisses me.

It's soft at first, tentative, like she's testing the waters. But when I respond, when my arms come around her waist and pull her closer, she melts against me with a small sound that goes straight to my soul.

This kiss is everything I remembered and nothing like I remembered at the same time. She tastes like hot chocolate and possibilities, and when her fingers tangle in my hair, eight years of longing pour out of me all at once.

We're still on skates, still in the middle of a public rink, but none of that matters.

Nothing matters except the feel of her in my arms, the feeling of the way she fits against me, and the feeling that right now… here in this moment, it's like no time has passed at all.