When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(23)

My hip brushes the banister. “It’s weird, having you all here after all this time.”

He laughs and shrugs as he goes to stand behind Violet’s chair. His silence doesn’t help my nerves. I follow him into the living room and sit down on the coffee table in front of where Violet sits, listening to the rest of their conversation.

“What? No words of wisdom?” Right about now would be the perfect time to get one of his classic pep talks.

Dan scoffs. His eyes squint together at my lack of confidence. “You don’t need any clichés tossed at you. Everything I have to say to you, you’ve already told yourself over the last year.”

“Seriously? That’s it?” I throw my hands in the air, glaring at Violet and Dan.

Violet sits forward in her chair. Her elbows rest on her knees. “This is your last chance, your Hail Mary, your final pitch. Now, don’t fuck it up completely.”

My eyes roll. “Don’t ever become a motivational speaker, Vi.”

“Don’t. Fuck. This. Up.” She stands, grinning like a fool.

“I’ll try not to,” I whisper.

“Try not to, what?” Kennedy’s voice brings me to attention. Her eyes glow with a dusting of make-up. Sometimes I wonder why she bothers. She doesn’t need all of the eyeshadows and mascara to look beautiful.

“Nothing.” I rub my eyebrow. There’s an unease in my smile. “You ready to go?”

“If everyone else is,” she answers, scanning the room.

Mark’s hand is tucked around Beatrice. “We’re going to hang back, but you guys have a good time.”

No one argues. They’ve made it clear they want to soak up each other before she heads back to the city with the girls. I can’t blame Mark. If it were up to me, Kennedy and I would ditch every single one of them, but instead, we pile into two separate cars and head to the rink.

*****

The line for skates dwindles down to nearly nothing. A forced smile and a head nod to the lady I almost knocked over while staring at Kennedy, has Griffin in stitches.

A hand pats the underside of my chin. “Put your tongue back in your mouth.” I follow his eyes as they shift over to where Kennedy sits with Sandy.

With much force, I shift my attention to the counter. “What’s up, man?”

“Who is she to you?” he asks.

I don’t look beside me. Instead, I search for her. Her gaze dances around the ice, surveying the kids as they giggle and play. She smiles at their excitement as if it is contagious, her spirits lifting along with theirs.

“It’s a long story.” I step forward and give the attendant mine and Kennedy’s skate size. When he hands them over, I tuck them under my arm and turn to Griffin.

“I’ll take the short version.”

This motherfucker’s going to make me say it. I twist and Kennedy catches my gaze. She stands, waving a few sweet fingers in my direction. I turn back to Griffin and shrug. “She’s everything to me.”

Griffin’s hands shoot up in defense. “We all like to put on a tough guy act, but I’d do anything for that girl.” He points to Sandy. She laughs at something Kennedy says, and the two of them wave to a little boy peeking over the barrier between the grass and ice.

“She’s here, and I’m not exactly sure what to do now,” I confess. I offer Griffin a half-ass smile and head toward Kennedy.

After we lace our skates, her grip on my hand tightens as she slips across the ice for the first time.

“Have you ever skated before?” With zero effort, I twist around to skate backward. Kennedy’s hands quake in mine as I help keep her balance. The frustration with my skill is set in her tight lips.

“In Tennessee?” She peers down at her feet the entire time. Her knees clench together, stopping her from falling to the cold, hard surface. I laugh when she finally gains the courage to glance up at me. Kennedy shrugs. “I spent my entire childhood in a dance studio.”

“You’d think you’d have better balance then.”

Between my fits of laughter, I let go of Kennedy’s hands. Her presence disappears as she falls to the ice with more grace than I would give her credit for.

“Ouch,” she cries, pouting up at me. Her eyes sink with defeat.

I buckle my lips together and fight back the laughter begging to creep up my throat. “I’m so sorry.” I reach out my hand to help her up. Her hand wraps around my forearm, and she jerks backward. I’m staring at the clear, blue sky.

“That’s what you get for laughing at me.” Her laughter echoes around the rink.

The cold ice burns through our pants, but neither of us moves to stand.

“Can we have a real talk? We’ve been avoiding the topic, and I suppose a part of me just really needs to know how you’re doing.” There’s no need to specify what I mean. Her eyes darken and her shoulder slouch.

“I’m not going to lie to you. None of it’s easy. The whole process of moving on from it all is terrifying,” she admits, picking at the chipped polish on her fingernails.

I can’t allow her to be alone in the pain. On the other hand, I’m not sure I want to hear about it either. “What’s the hardest part?” I ask. Reluctance lodges in my throat, strangling the words on their way out.