“I’m not scared,” he whispers, “and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t know what to do with you.”
A tattoo. A fucking tattoo.
His fingers come beneath my chin and he tips my face up. “Keep me.”
How could I not, knowing how kind and funny and sweet and special he is? I kept him at arm’s length for as long as I could, but he never gave up.
He’s my safe place to land, and when the time is right and he’s sober enough to remember, I’ll tell him.
CHAPTER 71
HAZEL
On the morning of the League Classic, New Year’s Eve, Rory and I meet with the owner of the studio space.
Laura’s family friend, Nadir, leads us on a tour, and I can barely talk, I’m so excited and nervous.
It’s perfect.
“Wiring looks good,” Rory murmurs in my ear, and I stifle a snort. I’m sure he’s never looked at wiring in his life, but last night, I spotted him googling what to look for when renting yoga and dance spaces.
“I’ll give you two a few minutes,” Nadir says. “Take your time. I’ll be outside if you have any questions.”
“And lots of room in the foyer for people to store their stuff,” Rory adds, gesturing at the lobby. “Do you think you’d need to do a lot of renos?”
Until the end of January, this space is a yoga studio. “Maybe a new coat of paint. Adding the ballet barre to one of the studios.” My mouth twists, and an urgent excitement hums in my chest. “The smaller rooms would need shelving and equipment.” I meet Rory’s curious gaze. “I like it,” I admit.
“Yeah?”
“A lot.” My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I bounce on the balls of my feet. Is this happening? It feels too good to be true.
It would be available as of February first, Nadir told us. On my first mentoring session with the woman from the states, we talked through how the next few months would work if I rented a space. I’d probably need a month for small renovations, and in the meantime, I could prepare the admin side of the business, like creating a schedule, doing the marketing, building a website, and hiring staff.
Until we’re ready to open, I could continue working with the Storm. I’d still have my other teaching gigs to bring in money. It would be incredibly busy, but I could make it happen.
My heart flutters as I gaze through the windows at the mountains. For this place? I could make it happen.
The situation with my mom wafts back into my mind, and I remember the phone call we had before Christmas. Can I do this? I want it to be so much more than a fitness studio, but what if I’m not ready?
What if I am, though? Bright, sparkling excitement bursts through me. What if it works out and it’s everything I want it to be?
Rory’s hands land on my shoulders, kneading the tight muscles, and I relax under his touch while my mind whirs.
If it was Pippa hesitating, I’d tell her to give the middle finger to imposter syndrome and get out of her own way. I rub my palm over my sternum, glancing around the space.
It really is perfect. Rent’s a little high, but manageable.
Rory believes in me, and his encouraging smile is the nudge I need. My hand slips into his and he gives me a squeeze.
“Hey, Nadir?” I call, leading Rory out of the rental space. “I’ll take it.”
Early that afternoon in Whistler, Ward sits across from us in the hotel meeting room wearing a curious frown. The team’s warm-up skate starts in half an hour, but I sent him an urgent meeting request.
This thing with Connor has gone on long enough. If it was happening to a colleague or friend, I’d urge them to talk to someone and put a stop to it. Between this and signing the lease, I’m doing all the hard things today.
“Thanks for meeting with me on short notice,” I tell him before taking a deep breath.
My heart pounds, but I remind myself that Connor kissed me. It was unprofessional and gross and went against everything the team promotes. I don’t know why this is nerve-racking.
Maybe because we egged Connor on all season. We purposefully made him jealous. A tiny part of me whispers this is your fault, but I squash that voice like a bug.
It wasn’t okay, even if Connor was jealous.
Rory’s hand slips into my lap, squeezing my fingers, and my nerves settle.
“The night of the charity event,” I tell Ward, “Connor McKinnon got very drunk and kissed me. I told him to back off and he wouldn’t.”
Revulsion climbs up my throat, putting a bad taste in my mouth. Alarm flashes in Ward’s eyes as he listens.