Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Brayden and I come to a halt, and I notice we’re standing in front of the arena where he plays.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he says. “I want the deep.”
“What?”
“Just now, when I mentioned I couldn’t imagine you wearing pink, you went somewhere else. I want to know where.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to go there.”
“Yes, I do,” he insists. “I want the light and the dark, the shallow and the deep. I know we just met, but I want all of you.”
I swallow thickly at his request. Not even Ashton knows about my past. When I came here it was to escape and leave all that shit behind. In order to give Brayden a piece of that, I would have to open that box, and I’m scared once it’s open, it’ll be hard to close.
“My mom and I have a… difficult relationship. Pink symbolizes my past, the happy times before everything changed for the worse.” I glance at Brayden and a look of longing comes over his features, like he understands what I mean.
Not wanting to ruin the mood, I ask, “What about you? What’s your favorite color?”
“Red.” He unlocks the door to the arena and we walk in.
“Are we here for our date, or did you need to stop by to grab something?” I ask while he locks the door behind us.
“Our date,” he says, giving me nothing more.
We head down the same hallway, where I ran into him last night, and through a set of doors that take us into the locker room.
“Are we allowed to be here?”
He reaches into what I assume is his locker and grabs his skates. “Nobody comes in on Sundays.” He sets down the bag he was carrying and unzips it. “And other than a few people who work here, like the janitors and coach, nobody has a key.” He pulls out a pair of white ice skates and hands them to me.
“I glanced at your shoe size the other day when you were asleep,” he admits sheepishly. “They should fit.”
“You bought me these?” I don’t know how much ice skates cost, but it seems like a little much for a date.
“Yeah.” He grabs my foot and removes my boot. “You can’t live in Michigan and not know how to skate. Don’t worry”—he winks—“I won’t let you fall and kill yourself.”
After he laces up my skates, he helps me stand.
“Here.” He pulls a white Ice Hawks hoodie out of the bag. “It’s cold on the ice. You’ll need this.”
I smile at his thoughtfulness and pull the hoodie on. It smells like him—masculine and clean. I try not to inhale too hard. When he leans in, I think he might kiss me, but instead, he brushes his fingers over my ass, making me blush furiously. He pulls my phone out of my back pocket and waves it at me, a grin tugging at his lips.
“You won’t want to keep this in there.” He slides it into the front hoodie pocket. “Might break if you fall.”
“You just wanted an excuse to touch my ass.” My body warms when his dark eyes flash devilishly.
He shrugs, neither confirming nor denying my words. “Come on. I’ve got you.”
I wobble the entire way to the ice, but Brayden holds me up so I don’t fall. The moment my skates hit the ice, I cringe, knowing this isn’t going to end well for me.
“Stop worrying,” he says, skating behind me. His hands land on my hips, and he slowly pushes me forward.
“Whoa!” I shriek, my feet slipping and sliding.
“Steady,” he murmurs into my ear. “I got you. Just focus on keeping your feet steady. I promise I won’t let you fall.” I take a deep breath and relax, and the second I do, my feet stop slipping.
“Good girl.” He squeezes the sides of my hips in encouragement. “Now I’m going to move. Just let yourself glide with me. Don’t resist.”
“Okay,” I breathe, doing as he says.
We take off slowly, and Brayden skates us around the outside of the rink. We’re both silent, as I focus on the ice and making sure I don’t bust my ass.
The longer we skate, the more comfortable I feel, and the next thing I know, Brayden’s letting go of my waist and taking hold of my hand. “You’re doing great,” he says. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”
I chance a glance at him and his eyes lock with mine. He grins a boyish grin and butterflies attack my chest. I’m so absorbed in him, I lose focus. My feet slip and slide and I grab hold of Brayden, hoping he’ll save me. But I must catch him off guard, because instead of him steadying us both, I take him down with me. Our asses hit the cold as hell ice, and Brayden and I both crack up laughing.