Page 57 of Date With Skates

“And going to sit in the stands and watch him play from afar, is supposed to… what? Scratch my itch? What could watching him in person possibly do that watching him on TV can’t? Which I have been avoiding, by the way, but I just—” He growls as he throws his arms up.

I roll my eyes, annoyed at his antics.

“Are you done? Because that little outburst tells me all I need to know.” I get up and go to him, putting my hands on his shoulders. “We’re not just going to watch him. We’re going to see him.”

“What?” he breathes out, his body relaxing. There is so much hope in his eyes, and I realize that I need to tell him the truth. I’ve kept it to myself long enough.

“It was Connor.”

“Connor…” He raises a brow.

“The guy I was seeing in Vancouver.”

His eyes pop open in surprise. “Oh…”

“Yeah, so, this isn’t just for you. It’s for us. Maybe, I, uh… found out what hotel they’re staying at.”

“You creep,” he says with a smile.

“So, are you coming with me?”

He grabs my face, holding on so tight that it hurts, and pulls my head toward him so he can leave a loud, wet kiss on my forehead. “Hell yes, I am going with you, Étienne.”

Nico is in such a good mood that he spends the evening at my house. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. We raid the fridge, eating so much that we can hardly move. We watch stupid videos on YouTube and scroll on our phones as we lay on opposite ends of the couch, not saying a word to each other, but we don’t need to. It reminds me of how we’d spend our nights after school—when Nico wasn’t on the ice. He’s been skating as long as I can remember, but when we were younger, we had more time to just be us.

I should appreciate these moments. As much shit as we give each other, we’re best friends. We love each other and care about each other. The older we get, the more popular he gets, the less I will see him or get to spend time with him. He’s only twenty-one. He has his whole future ahead of him, and he won’t always want me tagging along.

Not that I want to tag along with Nico forever. I’m not getting any younger, either. I need to find something to do with my life.

I nudge Nico’s thigh with my foot to get his attention.

“What?” he says, sounding annoyed.

“What do you think of me becoming a private investigator?”

“Mon Dieu! You’re annoying me for that?”

“I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do what you want. Clearly you have the skills.”

I shrug and go back to scrolling social media. I’m distracted for another five minutes before I nudge him again.

“Voyons donc, Étienne!”

“Why can you only speak French when you’re annoyed?”

He looks me dead in the eye with a look that could kill.

“Fine!” I say, then add, “What about a marine biologist?”

“You hate fish!”

“Yeah, but—”

He mutters something under his breath that I can’t hear.

“I need to do something with my life, Nico,” I complain, sitting up and putting my phone down.