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I turn my head to find Slade skating towards me in black men’s figure skates.
“You got new skates?” I ask, smiling at how different his feet look in them compared to his usual hockey skates.
“I had to look the part, though they're not broke in, so we'll see how well I skate in them. Do you like them?”
“I think having the right equipment will help, yes.”
He smirks down at me and I know he thought out something dirty he would love to say out loud, but he holds back.
Progress, I think.
“I’m glad you approve. I know I’m on probation at this point. I figured a few brownie points wouldn’t hurt.”
“Always looking for an edge, aren’t you, Matthews?”
“With you, it seems I always need one.”
I smirk up at him, happy to know he doesn’t consider me a push over.
His lips widen into that drop-dead gorgeous pearly-white smile of his, and I remind myself that I’m not interested in anything but his skating abilities.
“OK, so you know some of the routine?” I ask, skating over to the ledge where I left my phone.
“Yeah, I think I have most of it,” he says as I queue up Beyonce – Halo. I haven’t updated the music since Toby and I skated this routine, and the tempo and mood still match.
“Let’s just start from the beginning since you already seemed to know part of it from what you showed me a few days ago.”
He nods with his hands on his hips as he waits for me to skate back.
The song starts, and I don’t have to give him any starting queue. He follows Toby’s movements perfectly as if he and I have skated this for years.
He skates with me through the ice, our movement far more in tune than I expected, considering we’ve never skated together besides a few days ago when he took me by surprise. Our body awareness of one another surprises me, too. If that night in the car is anything to go on, it seems we have some chemistry in that department.
He sends me into my spin and then skates around me, grabbing my hand just slightly late, but it's nothing we can’t tighten up later. We begin building up momentum as we skate toward the turn.
I look over at him to see how he handles the fancy footwork that Toby and I choreographed methodically.
Slade’s movements and toe kicks aren’t perfect and a little clunky, but what I expect from a hockey player not trained in figure skating. The biggest thing is that he’s still managing his momentum at the same time to make sure he keeps up with me.
The triple-twist lift is coming up next. This move took Toby and me months to perfect. And we put it in the beginning of the routine when we’re fresh because it takes everything Toby and I both have to pull this off.
In a split second, I know it's a bad idea to suggest we can do this without at least testing it out in the gym first. It’s a difficult lift for trained professionals, but at least Slade’s strong enough that if he can just use my momentum when I jump to toss me up high enough and at the right angle, we might have a shot at this.
When I look over at Slade as we skate into it, I can already see it in his eyes…he’s anticipating it.
I guess here goes nothing.
I skate out in front of him as he places his hands on my hips and I jump as high as I can. He lifts up but in an awkward angle, and instead of spinning into a twist, I come crashing down on top of him.
He wraps his arms around me protectively as we both fall towards the ground. At the last second, Slade twists so that I come down on top of him, his back colliding with the hard ice below us.
I hear the wind get knocked out of him the second we hit the ice, but he still manages to wrap his arms around me.
We slide for a second and then stop.
“Are you ok?” he asks in a grunt.
That must have hurt him so much more than me. He keeps his head lifted off the ice as his eyes dart around every inch of my body he can see from his position under me to make sure I’m ok.
