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“Like it wouldn’t hurt to spend some time on the ice with you.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that. Come on, let’s do this.” I turn off the Jeep, and we grab our backpacks from the trunk.
Winter stops by the women’s locker room to get her skates, and then we head to rink four. We lace up, and I turn on the music, choosing something upbeat. I hold open the gate for Winter, and she takes my hand as we step onto the ice. We lap the rink a few times, finding our stride.
“Thank you. I needed this more than I realized,” she says.
“Sometimes it makes sense to do something normal when everything else isn’t.” I pull her closer, my feet bracketing hers as I move us to the center of the rink. “It’s okay to take a break from the trauma of it all.”
And that’s what we do. I spend the next half hour teaching her basic figure-skating moves, distracting her from the noise in her head.
I lace my right hand with her left and tap my shoulder. “Put your hand here.”
She does as I ask. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you something new.” I guide her through the motions, adjusting her position so our bodies are close, one leg bracketing hers to help support her as I move us in a circle that tightens until we’re in a slow spin.
“Pairs skating is intimate,” she murmurs.
“It’s mostly technical, and physically strenuous.” I pull her tight against me. “But this is intentionally intimate.” I drop my head and brush my lips over her cheek. “When I’m on the ice with Adele, I’m focused on the technical aspects, but when I’m on the ice with you, it’s all about getting closer.”
She tips her chin up, eyes searching mine. “Now would be a great time to kiss me. FYI.”
I drop my mouth to hers and part my lips. Our tongues meet and tangle, our slow spin losing momentum until we stop altogether.
Eventually she breaks the kiss, but one hand stays curved around the back of my neck. “You make it easy to forget myself.”
“Good. That was the plan.”
Her fingers drift along the collar of my T-shirt. “I should probably hit the shower and go back to the hospital.”
I finger the end of her braid. “Do you want help?”
She arches a brow. “Help?”
“In the shower. I give a mean scalp massage. But no pressure.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds, possibly contemplating.
“It doesn’t have to lead to anything, Snowflake. I’d love to take care of you the way you take care of everyone else, whatever that looks like for you.”
She bites her knuckle. “Okay. Yeah. I’d like that.”
I smile and take her hand. “Come on, then.”
We bring our backpacks with us into the locker room and leave our skates under the bench. I nab a few fresh towels from the linen closet and follow Winter past the communal showers to the private ones with plastic curtain dividers. I set the towels on the bench outside the stall and turn on the water, then pull my shirt over my head as Winter does the same. She looks over my chest and shakes her head. “God, you’re beautiful. One day I want you to tell me the story behind all your art.”
“It’s how I memorialize the people and events that mean the most to me.”
“Makes sense.” She pulls her sports bra over her head, careful to avoid her chin. She hooks her fingers into her leggings and huffs a laugh. “Why am I nervous?”
“You don’t have to get naked-naked. It’s whatever you feel comfortable with.” I keep my eyes on hers.
“I’m boxy,” she mumbles.
“Says who?” I arch a brow. “I’ve already seen you in a bathing suit, so I’m hella familiar with your curves. You’re strong and athletic, and you’re damn well gorgeous, Winter. Everything about you is.”
Her bottom lip slides through her teeth. “Can we drop trou at the same time?”
