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“I brought it with me.”
“You brought a hockey stick with you? You could’ve bought one here, or I could’ve had someone pick one up for you.”
Belle skated over to pick up the puck and said, “Um… No. This is my hockey stick.”
“Don’t they break all the time, so you’d go through a bunch, right?”
“They can break, yes, but this one is mine, and I’ve had it for a long time; since I started playing. I use a different one in goal, which I didn’t bring with me, so this one doesn’t get much use these days; meaning, it’s lasted a long time.”
“Oh. I shouldn’t touch it, then.” Chandler held the stick out for Belle to take when she arrived back near center ice.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll break it.”
“Why would you break it?”
“I don’t mean that I’d do it on purpose; just that I’ll probably smack it against the ice, miss the puck, and break the damn thing. Here.”
Belle shook her head and said, “You won’t break it. It’s fine. Come on.” She set the puck down on the ice. “I’ll show you how not to.”
“I golfed with my dad when I was about seventeen. Same general concept, right?”
“Um. No.” Belle laughed. “Don’t swing that thing like a golf club.”
She moved behind Chandler and wrapped her arms around her until her own hands were on the stick over Chandler’s.
“Oh,” Chandler let out.
“So, with a golf ball, you have a tee, and the air is exerting force against the ball. Unless the wind is helping it carry; I don’t know. I’m not a big science person. Anyway, with hockey, it’s going to glide on the ice, so you don’t have to swing like a golf club. That’s especially true for you because I don’t want you swinging so hard that you end up spinning around on your skates and falling down, hurting yourself. Your sister would murder me right here on this ice.”
Chandler laughed, and Belle felt it in her whole body. It jarred her a bit because they’d been this close over the past few days. She’d had her hands on Chandler’s body, lifting her, skating with her, holding her at the end of their pretend routine, but that was for work. This wasn’t. This was them having fun, and it made her think back to all the times they’d had fun. Before their kiss in the locker room, Chandler would be the only other person in the program whom Belle would’ve considered to be an actual friend. She’d never treated her like a poor kid in a rich kids’ sport. She’d never been an other to Chandler, who had been the wealthiest kid in the entire program by far. But so much had changed between then and now. Belle wasn’t sure how they were able to work together at all, given what had happened in the past, but she was even more interested in the fact that they seemed to be reforming their fractured friendship.
The scariest part, though, was the fact that she could still feel it: the pull that she’d always had toward Chandler Wolfe that had been more than friendship from moment one, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself or anyone else until she’d been forced to. She didn’t pull back from Chandler after hearing the laughter she’d missed without realizing it. She stayed there, helping her hold a hockey stick, because she didn’t want to give herself away. Yet again, she was hiding her feelings from Chandler Wolfe because she shouldn’t have them at all.
“Okay. So, the puck will fly fast, so you just worry about aiming for now. Anywhere in that net is fine since it’s open.”
“But if you were standing there, you’d stop my shot.”
“Oh, yeah. Assuming you could get it anywhere close to that net, I’d stop it,” she teased.
“Hey, I can get it in the net,” Chandler retorted. “You back up and watch me.”
Belle let go of her and slid backward. Chandler bent way too far at the waist, licked her lips, which was very cute, and moved the stick back and forth several times until she finally barely tapped the puck, and it moved about three feet. Belle burst out laughing.
“You said I barely had to touch it, and it would glide there.”
“I didn’t say tap it. You have to hit it.” Belle continued laughing. “Like you mean it, Wolfe.”
“Fine.” Chandler skated toward it, lined herself up again, and swung way too hard.
This time, the puck went far. So far, it was off the ice. It hit the wall behind the rink, since there was no plexiglass barrier here, and bounced off the trampoline until it landed on the pads next to it. Belle laughed again.
“At least, I hit it this time,” Chandler said.
“Yeah, you’re lucky no one was standing back there. You could’ve caused a head injury.” She skated over to Chandler and pulled the stick out of her hands. “Maybe no more hockey for you today.”
“Hey, I’m learning. That’s not bad.”
