Edge Of The Ice (On Going And Own Book)

unravelling Threads. 30

The hours dragged by slowly, each minute adding to the knot in Alex’s stomach. By the time 7 o’clock rolled around, he was out the door, pulling his hoodie tighter against the biting cold as he headed toward Skate City. The chill in the air helped clear his head a little, but his thoughts still felt tangled—Cass, hockey, the pressure of it all weighing heavily on his shoulders.

When he arrived at the rink, the familiar hum of voices and the sharp clatter of skates on ice hit him before he even walked through the doors. Skate City was always buzzing with energy, a mix of families, teenagers, and serious skaters weaving in and out on the polished ice. As he stepped inside, the blast of warm air and the faint scent of popcorn greeted him, bringing a small, reluctant smile to his face.

He spotted Leo and the rest of the guys near the rental counter, all in various stages of lacing up their skates. Leo waved him over, his usual grin in place. “Took you long enough,” Leo teased, tossing Alex a pair of skates.

Alex caught them with a roll of his eyes, sitting down on the bench to start lacing up. “Yeah, yeah. Not everyone lives five minutes away.”

Leo shrugged, leaning back on the bench. “Fair enough. You look like you could use some fun tonight, man. Relax a bit, alright?”

Alex forced a grin, nodding. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

But as soon as his skates hit the ice, he couldn’t help scanning the rink for Cass. He knew they’d be here—it was one of their usual practice nights. It didn’t take long to spot them, gliding effortlessly across the rink in the far corner, their movements fluid and graceful as always.

Alex’s chest tightened at the sight. Cass looked so at ease, completely in their element. It was one of the things he loved about watching them skate—how free they seemed, like they belonged on the ice in a way he never quite could. Hockey was about power, precision, and control. But figure skating? Figure skating was about expression, about letting go.

He skated closer to the center of the rink, trying to focus on his friends, on the playful jabs Leo was throwing his way. But every time he glanced toward Cass, he felt that same pull—the magnetic connection that had always been there between them, even when things were complicated.

As he rounded the rink again, their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to still. Cass slowed their pace, gliding toward him with a soft smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” they said, their voice carrying over the noise of the rink as they skated up beside him.

“Hey,” Alex replied, feeling a little breathless despite the cold air. “You look… good out there.”

Cass’s smile widened just a little, their eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re not so bad yourself, but you look a little distracted.”

Alex’s stomach did a flip. “Yeah, uh… just thinking.”

Cass raised an eyebrow, their gaze flicking over his face, reading him as easily as they always did. “About last night?”

“Yeah, about that,” Alex said, glancing away for a second before meeting their gaze again. “I meant what I said. I’m going to work on things, on… us. I don’t want to mess this up.”

Cass’s expression softened, their hand brushing lightly against his arm as they skated closer. “I know you do, Alex. I believe you. But you don’t have to fix everything all at once. We’ve got time.”

The warmth in their voice eased some of the tension in his chest, but the fear of losing them still lingered. He wasn’t sure how to explain it—this constant pressure, this need to hold onto everything so tightly. “It’s just… a lot right now.”

“I know,” Cass said quietly, their hand slipping into his. “But we’re in this together, remember?”

Alex squeezed their hand, feeling some of the weight lift off his shoulders. “Yeah. Together.”

They skated in silence for a while, their hands still loosely clasped as they circled the rink. The sound of their skates cutting across the ice was soothing, a reminder that not everything had to be so complicated. For a moment, Alex allowed himself to just be—to exist in this quiet, shared space with Cass, without worrying about everything else.

And for the first time in days, he felt like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.