I give her a squeeze. “You can do it. I got back on the ice, and it was okay. Remember when my mom had a panic attack? You nailed it, songbird. You did everything right. You’re tough as nails deep down, I know it.” Her brow rises. “Songbird?” I didn’t mean to call her that—it just slipped out. It’s perfect for her, though. “Mhm.” She bites her bottom lip. She wants to do it. I know she does. “Tell you what.” I give her arms another squeeze while I study the blue of her eyes. “Half a song. That’s all.” The long line of her throat moves as she swallows, gaze locked on mine like I’m a life raft.
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