We took slow laps around the rink, Craig leading and occasionally pulling me along when I froze. Each time I swayed dangerously, his grip would tighten, steadying me.
“There you go, you’re getting it,” he encouraged, as we completed another shaky circuit.
I managed a weak smile, still tense but no longer terrified. “I’m really only doing this because I trust you, you know.” Despite my anxiety and the chilling tales of ice rink mishaps, Craig’s confidence and close presence made the experience bearable, and eventually, even a little enjoyable.
He chatted away, and I was caught up in his words as we moved on to his time playing college hockey, and how it was hard to fit in with studying.
“You know,” Craig began, his voice reflective as he tugged me in a slow spiral, “college was a real struggle for me at first. With dyslexia, everything just took twice as long, and the words… they just danced around the page.”
That lined up with the research I’d done, and I couldn’t imagine how hard it had been for him. I shifted my balance, and he corrected it—kept me upright.
“I can only imagine how tough that was. You always seem so together about everything.”
He chuckled, a low, rueful sound. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t always like that. I had to work my ass off just to keep up. Ended up having to get a personal tutor.”
I couldn’t resist a tease. “Oh, I’ve seen that porno. The needy student and the seductive nerd.”
Craig laughed. “ImogenMulroney was far from being my type, trust me. Plus, she was more like a drill sergeant than anything you’d find in those films. No nonsense, all business, no sex or spankings.”
I laughed along with him, appreciating the ease with which he could joke about his challenges. It was one of the things I loved about him—his resilience and his ability to not take himself too seriously. I wish I had the skill to not take things über seriously at times.
“But y’know,” he continued, becoming more somber, “having dyslexia made me feel as if I was always climbing uphill. Imogen helped a lot, though. She figured out ways to get through to me, techniques that I still use.”
I wobbled slightly and he tugged me to the barrier where we stopped and hung for a while. “It’s impressive, you know. Not everyone would have stuck it out.”
Craig turned his hand to interlace his fingers with mine, giving a gentle squeeze. “Had to. I wasn’t going to let it beat me. I wanted to prove that I could do it, despite the dyslexia.” The pride in his voice was real.
I felt a surge of admiration for him. “And you did,” I said. “You’re one of the best people I know, Craig.”
He smiled. A soft, thoughtful expression that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Thanks, Jamie. That means a lot. Now, back to skating.”
“No, please, no.”
He ignored me, tugging me back in circles and I tried my hardest to look cool. If cool is a grown man as useless as a baby on skates.
Craig laughed, keeping our pace slow and manageable. “You look so cute out here,” he added, and I felt hot.
All over hot.
And so turned on by the capable way he was holding me up, and skating backward, and smiling all the time he was doing it. It would be so easy to fall in love with him, to imagine a life with him. But, when I did that, I wasn’t focusing on my studies, and I needed to because Sean was out there riding the coattails of what he’d stolen from me. I needed to prove to him, and the mathematics community what I was capable of.
As if that errant flash of temper was enough to send my legs sideways and I ended up flat on my back, tit over arse, with Craig sprawled over me.
“I fell over,” I said with a squeak of indignation.
He made no move to get off me, gently tangled his hand in my hair. “You look so good lying on the ice,” he murmured, and I kind of melted there and then. Fuck statistics, I wanted a kiss.
Which led to another kiss, and another, until my back was cold, and I was turned on, and Craig finally backed off and helped me stand.
“I need to collect data,” I said, even as I reached for another kiss.
He chuckled and held me close for a moment. “Where do you want me.”
“In bed,” I blurted, and he tried not to laugh.
“I meant, here, today, spirals… y’know, out on the ice.”
“Oh.” I blinked at him. “That.”
