It might be worth it to see him play, just this once.

He’d lined up for some kind of race with Goodwin, the wind playing with his hair, his smile wide as he and Goodie probably talked trash.

And then it happened. He looked up in the stands and spotted her. Stripped her of any defenses with his blue-eyed stare. She couldn’t look away. Her breath caught.

Oh, she loved him, and she was such a wimp for letting this man take so much of her. For not trying harder to erase him from her heart.

For being so easily wooed by her own sad dreams.

She should leave. She told herself that, loudly, practically waving warning flags in her head. Instead, she stayed planted.

Someone shouted “Go!” and Dodge took off like he was on fire. They ran lines—skating to the first line then back, then the middle and back, the third and back, and finally the full length and back.

Dodge beat Goodie by an entire half length.

She’d never really seen him skate that way, with such tenacity, such drive.

As if nothing would beat him.

Or maybe that had always been Dodge. She’d just forgotten.

He was breathing hard afterward, bending over to grab the boards. She thought maybe he’d hurt himself, but then he banged fists with Goodwin and grinned, and see, he was just fine.

She, on the other hand, might be having a full-out heart attack, so she tucked her head down and hustled away toward Hank’s office before she did something like stand up and cheer.

Pitiful.

She nearly took out Shasta on her way down.

“Whoa, Echo. Hey!”

Shasta was wearing a white down jacket, leggings, her brown mukluks, and a hat with a pom-pom. With her dark hair down, she was practically an Alaskan cover model. “Where are you going?”

“Uh—”

She hooked her arm around Echo and dragged her back up the stands. “Sit. Watch.” She sat next to Echo. “I can’t believe that Dodge is back. He looks good out there.” She leaned into Echo, gave her a nudge.

As Winter’s kid sister, Shasta had been privy to many of Echo and Winter’s apparently not-so-private conversations about Dodge, as well as Winter’s heartthrob, Malachi Bowie.

“Yeah, well. He told me to stay away from him.” Echo didn’t know where that came from—it just sorta spilled out, and along with it the hurt that had been floating around her heart like acid.

“What? Why?”

Echo gave her a look. “It probably has something to do with the fact that I broke his heart.”

“Ten years ago. Sheesh. Tell him to grow up.”