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We stared up at the ice rink’s simple entrance and I wondered how many kids came through here with dreams of the Olympics or ice hockey. It had never been my dream, merely something to do that I was okay at, but didn’t have the right passion for to continue if it meant bankrupting my parents no matter how much my mom wanted to push me toward something she could brag about.
Lost in my head, we walked inside and I noted all the glass cases of trophies. Dancing girls on ice skates and local hockey leagues with jerseys draped over smaller versions of their own Stanley Cup rivals. One more thing I never accomplished reminding me how lackluster my life had been thus far. He must have sensed my reticence because Whit’s hands rested on my shoulders massaging the old thoughts away with warm ones about him and the promise of hot chocolate later.
He kissed the top of my head sounding accusatory, “You’ve skated more than a few times at Rockefeller Center.”
The air between us chilled cooler than the indoor rink. I eyed the kids and adults making turns and small jumps on the ice with amateur skill with excitement that rivaled professionals. “Maybe.”
Standing toe to toe inside the rink, I rested my gloved hand over his and winked. “You never asked how much ice skating I did.” I didn’t make it a secret, but I wore my old skates that still fit and a flirty skirt over my leggings. His hands rested on my hips for a moment so he could look his fill at my body.
“A few times, huh?” He grumbled.
Kids on hockey skates zipped by us and the breeze that followed nipped cold air on my cheeks making me shudder. His forehead wrinkled and I wanted to reach up on my toes and kiss it away. I’d never seen someone look so pained over…ice skating.
He took my hand guiding us to follow the kids toward the opposite end of the rink. Our feet slid over ice that had been grooved with surface cuts from the numerous blades that came before us.
“Were you ever going to tell me that you took lessons for years.”
I shrugged as I let go of his hand to push my legs under me giving me the momentum to turn into a gentle spin crossing my legs to skate backward with skills I hadn’t used in years. Whit followed, his arms out as if he were bracing for a fall. It was cute to see him less than average at something I actually excelled at. It felt like the world was tilting a bit, recalibrating us to a more stable equilibrium I could deal with.
“Show off,” he called out laughing.
I slowed my rotation enough to execute a simple jump and explained, “I didn’t love it to keep doing it with any real commitment or seriousness.”
His eyes rolled smirking like he didn’t believe me as the junior hockey team zipped between us.
I kept skating putting my arms out and one leg up to put it down into a quick tight spin that left me breathless from the effort. “It was fun while it lasted and gave my mother bragging rights at book club.” Come to think of it, I didn’t stick with much of anything for too long. I’d given up the ice skating when my coach asked my parents about practicing before school in the early mornings and going out to competitions. My mother had been ecstatic. My dad look panicked like the cost might bankrupt us. I didn’t want the pressure or the spotlight. Frankly, I had an aversion to anything before 5am in the morning.
“Well, you skate beautifully.” Whit shuffled on his skates to grip me by the waist holding me against him. He leaned down, warm breath heating up my neck to say, “I’ll have to find a way to up my game.”
His cheeky expression and desire to compete made me giddy. I liked this carefree Whit. He freed himself from the hang ups we were so determined to ignore and it gave us the breathing space to just be. I wanted more of that breathing space no matter how greedy it seemed. I craved it like I craved his kisses, chocolate, and sunny afternoons.
“Hmm, you could, or you could get me some hot chocolate.” I shivered. He rubbed up and down my arms vigorously while we stood there. “I forgot how cold ice skating can be from the inside out.”
“I can think of other ways to warm you up.” He hugged me on the ice and we skated to the boards hand in hand, his holey mittens swallowing my black cotton gloves.
“Children are present.” I chuckled pushing him off me and skating away to swish over the ice before doubling back to him.
“Paybacks, Amelia.” He slipped through the exit off the ice letting his hand linger on my backside sliding down to cup my butt for a millisecond. Not enough PDA to get caught, but enough to
tease me into wanting to follow him. He put on his skate guards and wobbled away.
“Whip cream.” I skated backward waiting for him to turn. His eyes carried that hooded look and I winked again. I chased my demand with a coy follow up twisting a lock of my hair while biting my bottom lip. “Please.”
His laugh sounded like a bark and he walked away catching up with Hunter to stand in line. I’ll admit I admired his backside walking up to the concessions stand for a full minute blocking out the cold, the lights, and the sounds of ice swishing with people conversing around me. My eyes caught a glimpse of Kristen making figure eights around the rink. Kristen and Damien were already out on the ice bickering over who had better form as he chased her rather capable on his hockey skates.
I felt the vibrations of two bodies hitting the wall of the rink before I heard them speak. “Is that your big brother standing in line or are you seriously here by yourself?” Mateo snapped.
“Dude, he’s like her sugar daddy now. Have you been a bad girl, Lia?” Connor snorted slapping his thigh. I hope he choked on his own tongue.
Over my shoulder, Mateo and Connor snickered. Whit was out of sight with Hunter and I was alone here on the ice. Kristen and Damien were busy. I doubted they could see me with these two Neanderthals standing in the way. It rankled how they thought teasing me about Whit was going to change my mind about him. Their buddy wasn’t interested in me so why did they care?
I scanned the crowd for a sign of Ryder before adding a snarky comment of my own. "Guess your guard dog let you out for a play date?” Wherever these two went it typically meant they were following their ringleader trailing behind like lost puppies. I made it a point to stop hanging out with their little crew when Whit came back to me. It wasn’t worth the headache of a jealous boyfriend and friends who really weren’t friends no matter how hard I tried. I accepted that I didn’t fit in with this crowd and it wasn’t healthy for me to continue to lose sleep over something like people who wouldn’t remember to call me a week after graduation anyway. They weren’t my people.
“Oh come on Amelia-Bedelia.” The nickname made me cringe.
Connor whined like an over grown toddler begging his babysitter to stay up past his bedtime and it grated on my patience, or what had been left of since the camping trip anyway.
“Do you even–you know what, never mind.” I waved them off not interested in explaining the premise of a children’s story to them.
