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I didn’t answer. I was still shocked he was paying any attention to me at all, forget the fact that he was asking me how I was actually feeling… That floored me. And I wondered if my stressed-out brain had somehow made him up out of thin air.
His jaw tightened and he tilted his head to the rink. “Someone in there?”
I felt extremely defensive at that. I was about to lay into him over making assumptions, when he quickly cut me off.
“Okay, not that.” He put his hands down in front of him like he was trying to calm me. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But why go back in when it’s making you unhappy? Walk away for a bit, come back when you’re feeling better,” he suggested with a shrug.
“I… ” I felt stumped by that. Why didn’t I just leave? I swallowed hard and shook my head against his suggestion. “I have to go back in.”
“Have to?” His eyebrow quirked up. “You don’thaveto do anything. You’re not a prisoner. You do know that, don’t you?”
I stared blankly at his face. He simply did not understand.
I put my head down and started inside, but suddenly large, commanding hands were on my waist stopping me.
My eyes darted to his in shock. “Let me go,” I demanded in a low voice that I hoped relayed the fury I felt rising in my chest.
“Damn, you’re strong for such a teeny thing,” he said with a chuckle. “You hungry? Wanna get some cheeseburgers?”
I felt my mouth drop open, then forced myself to close it. I had to remind myself that I was mad at him. “Not allowed,” I snapped.
He snorted. “Says who?”
My coach. My mom. The whole stupid sport of figure skating.But I didn’t say any of those things.
He stared at me intensely and I was momentarily mesmerized by his blue eyes.
“Do you want,” he asked very slowly with wide eyes, “a cheeseburger?”
I blew out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, but-”
In a split second, he hoisted me up and threw me over his shoulder. I cried out, shocked really, and completely scared that he was kidnapping me.
I pounded his back with my fists and struggled against his vise-like grip on my body. “Put! Me! Down!” I yelled. “You can’t just kidnap me!”
He chuckled at that. “You’re not a kid,” he pointed out.
“How do you know how old I am?” I demanded.
“You’re Craig’s daughter. You’re turning nineteen this year, babe.”
Damnit.
“So that means you can just steal me?” I asked desperately.
“I’m not stealing you. I’m going to feed you. Those are two very different things, Adelina Kessel.”
I slammed my fists into his back again. In response, he jumped and made my stomach slam back into his shoulder, probably to stop me from struggling. It worked, because that hurt my ribs pretty frickin bad.
“And maybe I’ll even make you smile, Sweetheart,” he continued. “Then and only then, will I deposit you right back in front of the rink. After that, you can decide if you wanna walk back in or not.”
“But… but… ” I stared down at his very muscular butt walking me down the rink’s large ramp that led to the parking lot. “I have a lesson.”
“Screw the lesson,” he responded. “Do you really need it? You and I both know that you don’t. I’ve seen you out there. You’re the best one. You’re probably better than all those coaches ever were. Everyone knows it– even you. You're just not admitting it to yourself.”
I felt taken aback by that compliment… and I couldn't really argue against it.
Iwasthe best.
No one could take that from me. I worked harder and longer than anyone else in that rink. The only one who would eventually beat me was probably Claire. She was destined to surpass me because she didn’t battle the nerves and self-doubt that I did on a daily basis. And she had me fighting for her. I fought my parents to put her in public school. I didn’t want her to miss out on everything else in life just for skating like I had. I hoped she wouldn’t feel as much pressure as I did because she would have more options than me. Here I was at almost nineteen with no future outside of figure skating. The only job prospect I even had was a skating coach… and I did not want that… so, what did I even-
“You okay? Bein’ awfully quiet,” his deep voice rumbled.
My stomach chose that second to growl and he laughed in response.
“Maybe you’ll need two cheeseburgers.”
