Page 60 of Put a Rink on It

“See, it’s not weird because you speak my language without me having to say it. I haven’t found a local rink yet.”

“I’ll make a list while you nap.”

I pull a notebook out of the drawer. “Write down the name of the rink, address, and phone number. Oh, open skating and rink rental policies. Please,” I tack on, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

Marina scrutinizes the cover of the notebook. “Where do you get these from?”

“A variety of places. Online, in person in my travels, gifts from Kaitlyn. What are we making for lunch?”

“Paninis on your fancy griddle.” Marina rolls with my change of subjects, adding to the list of things not making this weird. I suppose knowing someone for thirteen-plus years has its advantages, even for friendship. She opens the fridge and pulls out several containers.

“I have a fancy griddle?”

“You do. I found it on my scavenger hunt of your kitchen.”

“Made yourself at home already?”

She nods. “Figured the kitchen was a safe area to start with. I’ll tackle your bedroom next week.” She liberates a girly giggle, and I do everything to not let it affect me. Not until we finish the conversation about commencing more than our friendship.

Instead of diving into it now, I ask, “What can I do to help?”

CHAPTER 19

marina

Ialmost forgot what it was like to skate with him in person. How he’s so different from his hockey persona—more free and wild, less regimented.

We have ice time for an hour, but instead of listening to a book like we normally do, we’ve leisurely glided around the rink together, starting and stopping a dozen conversations, none of which we finished.

It’s heavenly being on the ice with him, letting my legs take me around in circles or across the rink, both the length and width, the frozen air a quiet comfort. I wouldn’t call the rink my second home like Walsh and Nero refer to it, but I’ve spent enough time in them to be comfortable, to feel something shift inside me the minute I strap on skates and step onto the ice. I’ve tried explaining it to friends, but I can’t put it into words or get the sentiment right. Even to those who enjoy skating every once in a while.

It’s kinda like my friendship with Nero. Once people found out about it, I couldn’t explain why I cared so much for him. Why our friendship wasn’t rife with arguments or sexual innuendos. So many people have mocked our friendship, telling me a man and a woman can’t be friends. I had to stop listening to the naysayers. A man and a woman can make a friendship work if they want to. Nero and I are proof of that. Besides Juliet and one of my coworkers, he’s my best friend. Heck, he probably knows more of my secrets than they do. Because there were never any stakes in our friendship. From the moment we met, we clicked on a level I’ve yet to find with someone else. It’s never been weird between us, and nothing one does sparks jealousy in the other. Our personalities mesh well is the only way I’ve found to rationalize it.

Members of a local hockey team converge in the rink as we’re finishing up our session.

Nero’s hands grip my waist from behind. “Time’s up.”

“One more lap,” I plead, ignoring the flabbergasted looks we’re getting from the kids.

“Gotta make it quick, Ships. The natives are restless.”

Executed flawlessly, he guides me around the rink one last time, his fingers kneading into my skin.

I miss his touch.

The thought pummels me from deep within, a long-buried secret unearthing.

I don’t let it distract me from the task at hand, though Nero’s completely in charge, with me along for the ride.

When we get to the door, the players surround us, not giving us room to get off the ice. I’d guess they’re about ten or eleven, and their eyes are wide as saucers as they stare at Nero.

“No way. It is you,” one of them says, disbelief in his statement.

“Who am I?” Nero responds playfully, scanning each player.

“Nero Champion. You played for Minnesota Storm, but now you’re on the Hartford Nautilus. Number 22, defense, but you score a lot of goals.”

Another kid nods. “Like, a lot of goals. My brother has your rookie card. And now you’re here.” He gapes up at him with stars in his eyes.