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Instead of answering, Luke grabs the duffel bag and swings it over his shoulder.
When the back door is shut, Luke holds his hand out to me, and my stupid heart squeezes when I place my palm against his.
This is just a simple date.
He bought a hat because he’s a good person and he doesn’t want me to freeze.
I won’t lose the rest of my heart tonight.
I expect him to lead me right to the ice rink, but instead, we head toward the warming house.
Before we reach the door, it’s shoved open from the inside, and two small children come running out with skates on their feet.
Luke catches the door, holding it open, and gestures for me to go in first.
Warm is correct.
The room is maybe the size of a large bedroom. It’s simple andbare, with benches along the walls and a double row of benches down the center of the room.
People are scattered inside, in different stages of resting or changing footwear. And tennis shoes and snow boots are shoved under the benches, along with some bags similar to the one Luke is holding.
The fluorescent lights overhead have yellowed plastic covers. And that, mixed with the heater in the corner of the ceiling blowing super-heated air, gives the room a hazy effect.
A familiar hand presses into the center of my back, guiding me to an open section of bench that doesn’t have any shoes underneath it.
I sit, my back to the wall, but Luke doesn’t join me on the bench.
Instead, he crouches before me and starts digging in the duffel bag.
The action puts his pom-pom right at eye level, so I reach out and squeeze it.
The yarn is so soft I squeeze it again.
“Get all your aggression out now, Princess. I don’t need you trying to squash my other pom-poms later.”
I roll my eyes. “Not my fault you have such a nice pom-pom.” I give it another squeeze for good measure.
Luke sets a large pair of hockey skates off to the side, and then he starts to pull out the next set.
“Seriously, Luke. I don’t?—”
I stop talking because the next pair he pulls out is not the oversized pair I wore with the Blizz suit. They’re hockey skates, same style as his, but instead of black and white, these are cream.
Cream leather. Cream laces. Pretty, just like the hat.
“If the sizing is wrong, I can get different ones.” Luke sets them down, then begins untying the boots I’m wearing. “But I based it off the shoes you have by the front door. And I know you wear those pairs regularly, so I assume they must fit well.”
“Oh.” My voice comes out as a whisper. “That was really thoughtful of you.”
Luke lifts his gaze from my skate and grins. “I’m not just a hot body.”
I flick his pom-pom.
Luke laughs and pulls my boots off, clearly not having the same crisis of heart that I am.
He shoves my boots under the bench beneath me, then holds the first skate open.
I shove my foot in, wiggling my heel until everything feels like it’s in place.
