Page 30 of Date With Skates

“Not really. My whole family does, but it’s just another thing my brain won’t retain. No matter how much I try.” He sighs dramatically. “It’s a travesty. Truly.” He shrugs. “I understand a lot of it, but my tongue doesn’t work the right way.”

Roman clears his throat and huddles over his food, refusing to look at anyone around the table. Connor and I share a look. It seems like we’re the only people who caught that one, and we know what that response means.

Roman knows exactly how Nico’s tongue works.

So, they have fucked. Interesting.

“Onto a better subject, since I’m banned from teaching anyone French, you all played a great game today,” I say.

The guys cheer and thank me.

But Connor won’t quit.

“I didn’t hear anyone ban you,” he says. “I’m willing to take the risk.”

Nico huffs. “It’s your funeral.”

I open my mouth to say something else, but Connor cuts me off.

“It’s settled then. French lessons.”

“I’ll show you French lessons,” I mutter under my breath.

It’s not that I’m trying to get out of this, but there’s something about us that I don’t want people knowing yet. I don’t want Nico teasing me about Connor, the way I’ve been teasing him about Roman. It’s unfair and unkind, I know that. But I’d like to keep this thing with Connor just between us.

I like that everything we do is in secret, only for us. We don’t do things around others, so no one can bother us. When I’m with him, it’s all about me. There is no one to share the attention with. I want to keep this for as long as I can.

Less than two weeks, unfortunately, but I’ll take what I can get.

The table is full, and we pick at our food while talking. No one says anything about Nico and I sitting at their table—no one as in the guys on the USA Hockey Team. They’re all friendly and welcoming, and a few of them keep asking us questions about living in Canada and how we deal with milk in bags, and they also talk skating with Nico.

I feel like I’m in a dream. I never thought I’d be doing this: sitting around a table with men I’ve watched on TV for years. Some of them I’ve cheered against, while others I have favored. It’s a strange feeling; one that I am really enjoying.

The guys start to trickle off, either one by one, or in pairs, all saying they should get to bed. It’s getting late, and I think we all should get to bed since the morning always comes too quickly. Eventually, it’s just the four of us left—me, Nico, Connor, and Roman.

“So,” Nico says. “That was an interesting conversation.”

“Which one?” I ask, playing stupid.

He digs his elbow into my ribs, causing me to hiss in pain. “You know exactly which one.”

“Stop being mean.”

“You were being mean first. I don’t like being lied to.”

“I’m not lying about anything.”

Nico narrows his eyes at me, and for a moment, I’m nervous that he’s going to call me out on the Connor thing. Because I haven’t been lying to him, but I have been keeping it from him. I never keep anything from Nico, so I understand why he’s upset. Of course, he can’t be simple and just admit that. Instead, he has to pretend he’s angry over it.

“I’m going to bed,” he finally says, turning his gaze on Roman. “Walk me?”

“Of course.”

He gets up and grabs his trash, and the empty bottle of water Nico was drinking. He didn’t have any food.

“Bonne nuit,” he says with a smirk, then looks at Connor and winks.

He saunters off after Roman, and Connor looks at me with a raised brow.