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Lincoln, who had been jittery since he knocked on my door, finally appears at ease. "Okay, good," he says, his voice steadier.
He closes my door before rounding the truck to take his place in the driver's seat. We both fasten our seatbelts, and with a gentle smile, he puts the truck into drive and navigates out of the parking lot.
During the ride, we share comfortable silence, a palpable nervous energy surrounding us. It's as if we're both teetering on the edge of something new and exhilarating.
After about twenty-five minutes, we pull up to what looks like a frozen pond, far removed from campus. Lincoln helps me out of the truck and grabs our bags, leading me to a bench by the pond's edge, where we'll lace up our skates.
As we work together, the casual chatter flows effortlessly. The atmosphere becomes more comfortable, and our camaraderie deepens once we step onto the icy expanse.
We glide gracefully, savoring the crisp winter air, until an impulse overtakes me. "How about a little race?" I propose with a grin.
His eyes widen in surprise before a sly, challenging expression takes over. "Are you sure?" He teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I wouldn't want to hurt your pride when I leave you in the dust."
I feel like I'm walking on air. "I'm absolutely sure. I've never lost."
He narrows his eyes at me. "Never?"
"Never."
"Alright then, two laps, and the first one past that tree," he says, pointing ahead, "is the winner."
We align ourselves at the starting line, adrenaline pumping through our veins. "Perfect," I taunt, my voice laced with playful determination.
He shakes his head in disbelief. "Ready. Set. Go!"
In an instant, we're off, racing across the frozen pond. It's not a large expanse, but it's ample for what I have in mind. The first lap unfolds without any significant incidents, with us neck and neck. As we round the final corner, preparing for the last stretch, I reach out and grab Lincoln's arm. In response, he places a hand on my shoulder to steady me. I deftly nudge my blade into his, causing a spectacular collision just as we cross the finish line.
Lincoln goes tumbling down, the impact more forceful than I had anticipated.
Oh no, I really hope I didn’t hurtLincoln right in the middle of hockey season. Lane would kill me.
Lincoln hits the ground with a thud, and as he rolls over onto his back to look up at me, a groan escapes his lips. I breathe a sigh of relief, realizing that he's perfectly fine and I haven't injured him. With a sense of triumph, I cross the finish line and start my victory lap to celebrate my win. Once I've savored my moment of gloating, I skate back to him and extend a hand to help him up.
Lincoln accepts my hand and brushes himself off, his face breaking into a breathtaking smile. He's had his moment, so I let out a theatrical sigh. "Uh, I suppose I should probably confess to everyone how I managed to beat you in a race."
Lincoln gapes at my statement. "You cheated!"
I tap my finger against my chin, pretending to ponder. "Did I?"
Realization slowly dawns on his face as he figures out that I'm just messing with him.
"How did you even know how to do that with our blades?" he asks.
"My brother taught me," I reply.
He'd pulled that move on me more times than I could count when we were kids, and it often ended in tears before he finally decided to stop. Eventually, he taught me how to do it, and I added it to my collection of seemingly useless skills. But for once, that "useless" skill came in handy.
Lincoln grabs my hand and threads our fingers together, tugging me towards the bench so that we can sit down.
"I can't lie.” He chuckles softly, and the sound warms my heart. “That was a good one."
I nod my head in acknowledgment, offering a grateful smile. "I had an easy target."
Lincoln's fingers gently find their way to my lower thigh, his touch a mixture of playful and affectionate. He traces his thumb and forefinger across the skin, causing an unexpected jolt to course through my body. I can't help but emit an unattractive yelp, and he withdraws his hand, a sly grin dancing in his eyes. "Payback."
A playful chuckle escapes my lips, and I rub the sore spot on my leg, my own brand of retaliation. "I guess I deserved that," I respond with a snicker.
As his gaze bores into mine, an intensity simmers in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. Lincoln reaches out, his touch feather-light, tracing a finger over the freckles scattered across my nose and cheeks. His voice is a whisper, barely audible, yet charged with meaning. "Thanks for coming out with me. I really needed this."
