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“Nope. I’m quitting.”
“No.” He sounded disappointed. “Why?” And crazy inquisitive.
“None of your business.”
“You love it.”
“You wouldn’t have the first idea what I’d love and I’m not talking to you anyway. Go away.”
He picked up the paper. “I’ll wait.”
“I’m busy.”
“I know. I’ll wait.”
He could wait all he wanted it made no difference to her if he wasted his day off. She shrugged and skated back to her class.
One of the cherry poppers said, “Who’s the hunk?”
She shook her head. “No one. Stickyfoot.”
Another said, “Can I have him?” and the group laughed.
Bree shot a look over her shoulder at Ant. He was watching; he smiled that cocky ‘I could run the world’ grin. He was wrecking the peace she’d spent all week trying to create after the argument in the copier room.
She said, “Be my guest. He’s a slimy bastard,” while the track changed to Adam Ant’s Goody Two Shoes.
That got another laugh and started a discussion about drawing straws to have a go at tempting him. Bree knew it was all talk, but it made her unhappy all the same. It was irrational, but she thought she could quite easily scratch the eyes out of any girl who managed to hold Ant’s attention. And that was ridiculous. How did he even know she’d be here? And if he thought she was a lesbian why was he chasing her around? What could he possibly want now she’d comprehensively smashed any notion they could be friends or lovers?
An hour later, the newbies were dropping from exhaustion, so she turned the music off and sent them to Damo for a sit down on the rules and a briefing on insurance before they went home. Ant was still there. He’d switched from the paper to his iPad.
She skated over, stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. He didn’t. “Why are you still here?”
He put down the iPad. “I’m waiting for you.” Then he looked her up and down with enough heat in his gaze to make her knee throb. If he thought seduction by eyeball was going to work for him he needed to get out more. She glared back at him, then went to collect her weapons. If he wanted a fight, she was going to bring it. Two minutes later she’d cajoled Damo into giving up his skates and pads by agreeing to clean them for him in time for him to ref next week’s bout. It helped Damo was distracted by the class. She went back to where Ant was watching and threw the gear on the track in front of him. Damo was a big bloke too, the pads would fit, if the skates didn’t that was tough. If Ant wanted to talk he was going to do it on wheels.
“I’m only interested in fresh meat who want to skate derby. You want to talk, you skate.”
“Ah.” He looked amused, then his smile back-flipped. “You’re serious.”
But not stupid. She skated to the other side of the track and stood behind Damo’s class pretending to listen to his drill on safety, but watching Ant retrieve the gear and drag it to the first rise of seating. He studied a skate, then he took off the shoe he wore and tried it on. His foot went in. His head came up and he met her eyes. He very clearly said the words, “Game on.”
He had no trouble sorting the knee and elbow pads out, or the wrist guards. She hadn’t bothered giving him Damo’s helmet, she wasn’t wearing one herself. She didn’t think he’d be doing much more than sitting on his arse. He didn’t try to stand. He donned the gear and waited and made no pretence of not watching her. Bree waited till Damo finished and sent the freshies off for the day. He gave her a knowing shake of his head she probably should’ve paid attention to, as he handed her the door key and made for his car. Then there was just the two of them; one pretend lesbian and one arrogant ingrate, who should’ve known better than to try to take her down on her own turf.
She skated up to him, annoyed to see he didn’t look the least bit worried. He looked relaxed. And annoyingly edible. If he already knew how to skate this was a dumb idea. The last thing she wanted was to have to pit her skills against his in a last person standing competition. One of them would end up in tears and it wouldn’t be Kitty.
She fisted her hands on her hips, frowning at him. “You skate?”
“Skateboard. And not for a long time.”
She tried and failed to keep the smile off her face. He wouldn’t be as hopeless as she thought, but skateboarding and skating were still very different. “Prepare to feel pain.”
He shook his head and held onto the seat to stand. Sitting back down with a thump as one leg shot out in front of him. “Shit!” The floor was fast for obvious reasons. She skated in a circle to stop from laughing at him. When she faced around again he’d gotten to his feet.
“Okay.” He clapped his hands, one sharp sound reverberating in the large quiet space. “So far so good.” He gave her his world domination grin.
Much as she was keen to see him flounder, her trainer’s skills kicked in. He could be badly hurt if he fell. “You’ve really only skateboarded before?”
“Yep. I prefer a wave under my feet.”
