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I look at the bag. “It’s not quite big enough.”
“The fact that you know that is deeply alarming to me. I warn you, I’ve got moves.” She makes a karate chopping motion.
The driver makes a right turn and pulls into the parking lot of the Frosty Penguin Ice Rink. He drives up in front of the entrance and stops the vehicle.
“Why are we here?” Ruby flashes me a look of alarm. Then she nods in understanding. “Oh, I get it. Our terrible date is going to involve me sitting there watching you skate. Whatever, dude. I actually don’t mind watching you skate. You’re not too awful at it. I mean, it’s no Ice Capades, but it will be entertaining. Will you do a special little twirl, just for me?” I open my door, grab my bag, and climb out. She makes a face at me and gets out of the limo.
I wait until we’re walking inside before I say, “I booked an hour on the rink for both of us.”
Ruby stops in her tracks, eyes widening in alarm. “Me? I don’t know how to skate. You know that.”
I link my arm through hers and start walking again, and she stomps down the hall next to me. I flash a feral smile. “I am going to teach you.”
“Nooo! I’ll break a limb.” She glares at me. “Picture this, Paxton. I show up at my sister’s house. My arm is in a cast. She says, what happened? I say, it’s Paxton’s fault. Before I even get to the part where I explain that you shoved me out on the ice, she jumps to the conclusion that you hurt me on purpose, and you’re a dead man. She’s hired a hit man. Or she’s done the job herself.”
I nod. “Yeah, she seems like the kind of woman who’d do the job herself. She wouldn’t leave it to chance. Don’t worry; you won’t hurt yourself. I’ve got you covered on that front.” My grin turns evil.
We’re walking towards the rink, where there are maybe eight or ten skaters twirling and gliding. The air is chilly. She’s wearing a T-shirt and leggings, because I told her to dress comfortably and casually, and she shivers and hugs herself. Her nipples are hard from the cold.
I want to hug her, rub her arms, warm her...
I want to do more than that.
I stop at a bench and unzip the bag, then toss her a sweatshirt. Scowling at me, she puts it on.
Then I take out skates for her and for me. Hers are bright neon pink and have little cartoon animals on them.
She squinches up her face. “What if they’re not my size?”
“They are. I already asked your sister what your shoe size was.”
“Don’t they rent skates here?” she asks.
“I’m very particular about my skates,” I inform her. Every hockey player I know is. Skates are like, well, like a musician’s instrument. No way I’m stuffing my feet in anything less than the best.
Muttering four letter words, she sits down on a bench, and so do I. I offer to lace her skates up for her. She flips me off.
I reach into the bag and start to pull out her protective gear. There’s a big, puffy butt pad. It’s bright pink. She also has to wear puffy protective gloves and elbow and knee pads, all in the same hideous shade.
“No way,” she says in horror. “You cannot make me put these on.”
“Ruby, like you say, if you fall and break your arm your sister will murder me. And the Rovers need me.” I look at her pleadingly. “Think of the Rovers, Ruby. How can you be so selfish?”
“But these things look like a five-year-old should be wearing them,” she protests.
“Listen. This is my date night, and you’re not allowed to argue.”
“Arggh.” She stomps her foot.
I just grin at her and fold my arms across my chest. “I will win the prize of worst date ever,” I inform her.
“That was never a question.” Scowling, she starts putting on her protective gear. I help her. Then she puts her skates on.
When she’s done, she looks utterly ridiculous.
“Can I get a picture?” I beg.
She offers to stick my phone somewhere I am pretty sure it won’t fit. Also, I don’t know how I would make or receive calls if she did that.
