What He Never Knew (What He Doesn't Know, #3)(66)

I cleared my throat. “They have rollerblades for rent over there,” I said, nodding toward a little stand near the trail that circled the park. “What do you say? Want to give it a try?”

“I’ve never skated before.”

I smiled. “Well, then this should be fun.”





“I’m going to crash, I’m going to crash, OHMYGOD I’M GOING TO CRASH.”

Sarah’s hands were out at her sides, arms stiff and knees locked as she skated ahead of me and Rojo — if you could even call what she was doing skating. It was more akin to standing as stiff as a board, slowly rolling along the concrete. She had knee pads under her skirt, elbow pads wrapped around her arms, wrist guards protecting the bones and muscles we’d worked so hard to heal, and a helmet — all of which made her look like she was roughly thirteen years old. Combined with the giant smile on her face and eyes the size of stars, it was impossible not to watch her.

It was impossible not to smile, too.

“You’re not going to crash,” I said on a laugh, letting Rojo trot at her own speed as I skated behind her with the leash in my hand. “But if you don’t loosen up, you’re just going to float around like a stiff board all afternoon.”

“I’m trying not to fall.”

“Why?” I asked, skating up beside her. She looked half excited, half terrified as she shuffled her feet in the blades. “What would be so wrong about falling?”

She glanced at me, eyes flicking back and forth between me and the sidewalk in front of her. “Well… I don’t know. It would hurt.”

“Maybe for a second. But you’ll survive. Come on, ditch the fear and let’s do this.” I reached out the hand that wasn’t holding Rojo’s leash for hers. “Do you trust me?”

She swallowed, eyeing my hand like it was a rose disguising a bomb. “I do… but—”

“No buts,” I said, folding her small hand in mine. “Just hold on.”

I started to skate a little faster, letting Rojo adjust to my speed as well as Sarah. She gripped my hand like a lifeline, making little squeaks with each stride we made.

“We’re going to crash,” she said when we zoomed by a jogger.

I laughed. “We are not going to—”

But before I could finish the sentence, a dog off its leash ran across the trail right in front of us. I veered us left, but Rojo chased after the dog to the right, tangling me and Sarah both in her leash. I stumbled, still holding onto Sarah and trying to save us, but my wheels couldn’t catch enough friction to combat gravity.

It was too late.

I pulled Sarah into me, shielding her as much as I could from the fall just as I lost my footing and we tumbled to the ground, rolling off into the grass with Rojo still barking.

“Shit,” I said, pulling back from where I held Sarah to examine her. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t see that dog until it was too late.”

Her honey eyes were wide, her hands shaking, and for a moment I thought she might cry as I searched her for blood or bruises. But instead, she tilted her head back and laughed.

She laughed like a woman set free, the noise bubbling out of her chest like a spring. The longer I watched her, the more the corner of my mouth lifted. She waved me off, like I was the reason she was laughing uncontrollably as she tried and failed to catch her breath. Tears were in the corners of her eyes when she was finally able to stop, and she swiped them away, still smiling as she looked up at me from the grass.

“God, that was so much fun.”

I chuckled. “I told you. Falling isn’t so bad.”

We both grew quiet, and where my attention had been focused on her safety before, it was now acutely aware of how close we were. The way we’d landed, I was practically on top of her, one leg between hers with my arm under her neck, the other hand holding me up where I framed her.

Sarah’s eyes flashed between mine, and when her gaze fell to my lips, I inhaled a stiff breath as every nerve below my belt kicked to life.

One of her hands was on my chest, the other on my bicep where I held myself up, and she wrapped that hand around the muscle, squeezing. I swallowed, allowing myself one, brief glance at her plump lips before I cleared my throat and rolled away.

I stood quickly, adjusting myself in my pants before reaching down a hand for hers. I forced a smile with the gesture. “Come on, let’s try again.”

For a moment, Sarah just stared at my hand, her cheeks a shade of pink. Once she took my hand and I helped her up, her gaze fell to something behind me.

“Well, it’s about time I ran into you.”

I whipped around, and I knew there was no use in trying to hide my surprise when I realized it was Jennifer Stinson that Sarah had been looking at. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and she sported a tight-fitting, matching athletic set that accentuated all of her well-developed curves, as well as her tan, toned stomach. She was dressed like she was there to work out, but she still wore a full face of makeup — complete with crimson red lips, as always.

At her feet was a tiny chihuahua, that Rojo was now inspecting.

I tugged her leash, snapping my fingers once for her to sit down. “Jennifer,” I said, holding Rojo by the collar once she was seated so she wouldn’t eat Jennifer’s dog by accident. “Nice to see you. I didn’t know you had a dog.”