It was like I couldfeelwhen she was getting ready to change positions, and by our second practice, I was already moving when she began to shift her weight. I might not know all the holds and turns and positions, but Joshua said I was a fast learner.
The youth coach had joined us starting the second afternoon, and while part of me resented having to share the rink time with another male, the rest of me was glad I wasn’t going to be tempted to touch Lila more than necessary.
That first practice, alone on the ice, her smiling up at me as I skated backward? I’d almost kissed her then and there.
Would she taste like expensive luxuries? Or like any other female I’d pleasured? I was a little alarmed to discover I was desperate to find out.
So it was probably a good thing Joshua McAllister was there, calling out positions and adjustments, and sometimes even physically manipulating my limbs. He was a slight man, even for a human, but he had no fear around orcs, apparently.
When I growled at him for pulling my hand away from Lila’s, he just snorted and rolled his eyes, then placed my hand on her hip instead. “Feel the way she’s moving through the next turn. She’s gathering power. We don’t have time to learn any throws—with your strength, it could be dangerous—but I don’t see any reason we can’t incorporate plenty of lifts.”
I had no idea what he meant; I was just pleased to be touching her.
The rest of our week was spent with me learning—and learning, and learning—the basic pairs positions. By Friday, I could skate backward while holding her, or by her side with our hands interlocked, and we’d worked on synchronized footwork until I could match her without having to look down.
Lila had suggested a bunch of websites for me to watch figure skating videos, and I realized I was intrigued by the raw power those pairs displayed. There was grace and beauty there, of course, but now that I had a basic understanding of what went into that synchronization, I was impressed as hell.
“I think by next week, we’ll be ready to sketch out the choreography,” Lila was saying to me as we did our final lap on Friday. “I think I’ve figured out theshapeof the routine, but not ready to commit to the details yet.”
I grunted, more focused on the feel of her hands in mine than her words. “What do you need to be able to commit?”
To my surprised, her cheeks heated, and she flashed a glance at me before focusing on the bench. I couldsmellher embarrassment.
“Um…I think you and I need to get together off the ice to work through some basic holds. If you’re okay with that?”
I don’t know what that meant, or why it would make her embarrassed, but it didn’t sound so bad.
“Sure. Now?”
Her little huff might have been an attempt at a laugh. “I’m sweaty and exhausted, and the peewee hockey team is about to show up for practice on this rink. We could…um.”
It was so rare to see her uncertain that I twisted my skates and stopped suddenly, pulling her to a halt as well. “Lila. Just say it.”
Her gaze was locked on my chest. “My apartment has a big living room, lots of open space. We could…hang out there. I could make dinner. Or lunch, if you wanted to do it tomorrow instead.”
She was inviting me to her apartment? For dinner? That sounded…dangerously tempting.
So my response was carefully worded. “Dinner. And we’d be there mainly to practice moves for the routine?”
Her deep blue gaze snapped to mine. “Oh, no, we’d be thereonlyto try out the holds. I mean, and dinner,” she hastened to assure me. “It’s not like…like adateor anything.”
“Right.” Not a date, because she didn’tdateguys like me. Hells, she probably didn’t know the meaning of the wordscasual fuck. “Well, sounds like a plan. Tonight?”
Her cheeks were still pink, but now she smiled softly. “How about six thirty?”
I’d nodded and helped her off the ice, then threw my skates into my bag and hurried home to shower, all the while completely distracted by the thought of holding her on ournot a date.
My phone dinged as I was getting dressed. A text from Dakvaar.
You busy tonight?
Yeah. Figure skating practice.
The team had found out about the exhibition, and I’d endured much good-natured mockery aboutbetter Kardok than any of us. Dakvaar, who had never seen much need for expressing emotions in the best of times, had merely nodded when he’d heard.
Now, he didn’t tease me.
Good. I was going to suggest chilidogs at BadAxe, but practice makes perfect. You’ll be at the complex?
