Chapter 29. Empty Ice

Tessa’s POV

The surprise is the rink.

At 8:05 on a Thursday night, Cadston Arena is dark except for the emergency lights along the tunnel and a single bank of floods over center ice. Wyatt unlocks a side door with a key on his ring that says CAPT in faded Sharpie, and the cold hits me the second we walk in. Clean, sharp cold. It smells like frozen water and rubber mats and, faintly, Zamboni exhaust.

“Are we allowed to be here?”

“Define allowed.”

“Wyatt.”

“I’m the captain. I have a key. Coach knows I skate at night when I can’t sleep.” He flicks on one more bank of lights. “He’s never said I can’t bring someone.”

“Because you’ve never brought someone.”

He doesn’t answer that. He just sets a pair of white figure skates on the bench in front of me. Women’s size seven. Brand new. Tags still on.

I stare at them.

“Knox,” he says, before I can ask. “I asked him your size. He thinks I’m insane.”

“I don’t skate.”

“I know