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I’m doing my best, but mostly, I’m watching Chance and Gracie. They’re adorable, and when Chance swoops her up into his arms to skate as though they’re dancing, I’m charmed beyond belief. He’s skilled, obviously better at skating than most of the others on the ice, and when he moves them to the center, far away from everyone else, and spins with Gracie in his arms, happy laughter escapes from her in big belly laughs.
Suddenly, Carter is there alongside them, taking Gracie’s other hand, and they have a niece sandwich, with her skating between both her uncles in the center of the rink.
It becomes a competition, each uncle showing off a move for Gracie as the remix goes on and on. From nearby, I hear Luna squeal with delight as she breaks out her phone and takes footage of the two uncles battling each other for their niece’s heart.
I don’t blame her. It’s like an uncle show-off challenge and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
Chance, along with being a good skater, is actually a really good dancer, too. He does some lawnmower-starter and sprinkler moves, but on him, they look charming.
And then there’s the bootie shaking, which is done with a silly smirk, showing he’s not taking himself too seriously, but his ass doesn't get the memo and looks downright smackable as I skate past to stand beside Luna, who’s still videoing.
But the hottest thing he does is the footwork. He’s obviously played hockey or something because he’s near-tap dancing on the ice, feet crossing over each other and blades gliding forward and back. I can only imagine what he could do in true hockey skates.
“Think they’re going to measure each other’s hockey sticks?” Luna questions with a grin.
“They already have. They’re brothers. They’ve had each other figured out since they were kids—the buttons to push, the weak spots to exploit, and the strong points to use when convenient.” And then with a grin and eye roll, I add, “And yeah, they probably literally measured too. It’s a guy thing, I hear.”
Luna and I laugh at our own jokes.
I’m mid-laugh when a blast of pain shoots through my leg and I’m suddenly flying through the air. “What the—" My own outburst is cut off when I land ass-first on the cold ice with anoof! “Shit!” I hiss.
“Oh, my God!” Luna cries, dropping down beside me.
In the next instant, Chance slides up to me on his knees. “Samantha! Are you okay?”
“Yeah? I think so,” I answer, but when I move my leg, sharp pain shoots through my knee and I cry out. “What happened?”
Luna explains, “A kid was going really fast and clipped you as he passed.”
Chance is tenderly probing at my knee with sure fingers. “I don’t think it’s bad. Maybe sprained or twisted?”
I straighten my knee, noting that it feels weird and a little painful, but nothing I can’t handle. “Help me up?”
Chance on one side and Luna on the other, they get me vertical on the slippery ice. I slowly and carefully put weight onto my foot, but my skate wobbles, which hurts my knee more.
“Nope, not doing that,” Chance murmurs right before he scoops me into his arms princess-style and easily skates across the rink with me. “Coming through,” he warns. Thankfully, people give us a wide berth, especially given that the blades of my skates are floating through the air at kid-height.
In the lobby area, Chance sets me on a bench and kneels in front of me to remove my skates and then his own. Seeing him kneeling before me would normally be sexy, but right now, I’m too focused on my knee and making sure that his pulling off the skate doesn’t irritate it because it really hurts.
Luna, Carter, Zack, and Gracie surround us, and while Luna fusses about taking me to an urgent care, it’s Gracie who makes me feel better.
“That kid was flying and plowed right through you! Likeka-blammo!” she says, offended on my behalf. “Want me to take him out for you? I can make it look like an accident.”
“Grace!” Carter scolds. “That’s not funny.”
But I give Gracie a chin nod of appreciation. “Nah, I’m good. Or I will be. I’m made of tougher stuff than this.” I wave my hand at my leg dismissively even though it hurts like a sonofabitch.
“So, urgent care or ambulance?” Luna asks me.
Shaking my head, I say, “Neither. I just want to go home.”
“You heard her. We’re out,” Chance says as if there’s any other option. He stands, scooping me into his arms once more. I hang on, my face nearly buried in his neck, where his spicy, woodsy cologne fills my nose.
We get a standing O as Chance stomps across the area with me in his arms. This could definitely be more discreet, but I’m also not complaining. Except... “Why are they clapping?”
“Sports thing. Applaud for the injured player as they leave the ice. Not into sports?” he questions.
“Nope.”
