»»•««
“How was your date?” Elise asked Marissa in the lunch room the next day.
“I might go out with him again,” Marissa said. “Better than the other men I’ve met online.”
“Resounding praise.”
“Yeah.” Marissa laughed. “Unlike the last guy I went out with, he didn’t fancy himself a poet and tell me repeatedly that my eyes reminded him of an endless desert of sparkling sand. What does that even mean? And unlike the guy before that, he didn’t text me an hour after our first date to declare his undying love for me.”
“That was a little creepy.”
“You’re telling me. So yeah, this guy was refreshingly normal. Perhaps he’s waiting for the second date to bring out his crazy side.” Marissa shrugged.
Elise and Marissa were both structural engineers at Barlow. Elise had been there for two years, and in that time, she’d seen Marissa bring only two different lunches: cheese, spinach, and salami sandwich; or green salad with chicken. Today she had the latter.
Marissa had a bite of her salad. “No more first dates with strange men, not for a little while. But I could go for another girls’ night in.”
“Me too,” Elise said.
“I can’t do this weekend, but maybe two weeks from now? Does that work?”
“Sounds good.”
“Awesome. I’ll see if Jill’s around.”
Girls’ night in meant beer, board games, and Brit pop. And occasionally talking about men. Though it was usually just Marissa who talked about men. Jill was married and Elise rarely dated. She considered bringing up Zach now, as Marissa munched away at her salad. But there was nothing to tell, really. Why did she keep thinking about him?
“You know what else I never did when I was young?” Elise said. “Tobogganing.”
“You never went tobogganing?” Marissa’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, and she looked at Elise in horror.
“Maybe we could do that as well.”
“I should be able to find some old sleds at my mom’s. It’ll be a bit weird though, a bunch of grown women going tobogganing. We should steal a kid for an hour or two—then it’ll be more normal.”
“Because stealing a kid is a totally normal thing to do,” Elise said.
“Why not?” Marissa adjusted her glasses. “I steal kids all the time. Well, borrow. Babysit. Same difference.”
Elise nodded toward the door. One of the project managers had just entered the lunch room.
Marissa coughed—it looked like she was suppressing a laugh. “So how was skating?” she asked. “You went, didn’t you?”
“It was good, I guess. Though I’ve got a long ways to go. A very long ways.” But I’m determined to do it. Also I met this cute guy, and he helped me and held my hand. And then he shot me down for coffee. Do you think he might show up again next week?
But Elise didn’t say any of that.
»»•««
Elise went to the rink that Wednesday. Zach wasn’t there, but she didn’t expect him to be.
On Sunday morning she went again, at exactly the same time as last week. Her heart pounded in anticipation as she neared the ice. Was she a total fool for thinking there was a chance he’d come?
Apparently not.
Zach was stepping onto the ice—he made it look so easy!—just as she got there. He waved at her, and she waved back and grinned. If she tried to wave while skating, she’d lose her balance. Yeah, that would probably go as well as her attempt to shake hands last week. Though he’d put his arms around her afterward, so it had turned out okay. More than okay.
As she laced up her skates, she tried to get her excitement under control. He doesn’t like you. It’s not going anywhere. And this led her on a downward spiral of negative thoughts: It never goes anywhere for you. You’ll never be close to anyone.
She knew this was a fucked up way to think. She knew she needed more therapy, but it was expensive. And the way she thought was, unfortunately, based on experience—she’d never had a serious relationship, never had a best friend. Her mother…well, that’s why she had so many problems. She hadn’t heard from her dad in over two decades. She didn’t have a normal relationship with her siblings because she’d been more of a parent than an older sister.
It was also a coping mechanism. If she didn’t hope, she couldn’t be disappointed. And she’d been disappointed a lot in the past.
So she tried to tone down both her excitement over seeing Zach and her negative self-talk. She would work on her skating and try not to get an enormous bruise this time. She would have fun. Just focus on that.
It was much nicer today, just below freezing, and there were maybe a dozen people on the ice. Although she was glad the weather wasn’t so brutal, she was a little disappointed they wouldn’t have the rink to themselves.
Zach came over and helped her onto the ice. Beneath her red wool mitten, her skin tingled slightly at his touch.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, trying to sound casual despite her racing heart and the gorgeous specimen of man before her.
He merely smiled. Well, perhaps “merely” wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t a mere smile—it was a knee-weakening smile. She didn’t remember him smiling last week. No, he’d seemed rather somber.
“Let’s go,” he said, starting to skate with her hand still in his.
“But there are other people on the ice.” Of course she wanted him to pull her like he had last week. She just didn’t want to collide with anyone. And if she fell, she wasn’t going to make snow angels on the ice surrounded by other people.
But for some reason, she’d done it in front of Zach. Who now ignored her protests and dragged her along a little less recklessly than last week. She knew they weren’t going very fast, but it felt like she was whizzing across the ice.
She laughed the whole time.
Unlike last week, he stayed at one end of the ice with her as she practiced all the things YouTube videos and how-to articles told her she should be doing. He gave her advice and encouragement as she attempted penguin marching, two-foot gliding, and one-foot gliding—that one wasn’t going so well. She decided to leave it alone for now and try swizzles.
“I don’t know what those are,” Zach said.
“You push your feet apart from a vee, then bring them back together.”
He nodded and then executed a bunch perfectly, just like in the videos. He made everything look so easy.
If Elise had learned as a kid, it would probably be easy for her as well. But she wasn’t bitter about that anymore. She’d gotten over it. Mostly. And it wasn’t like she could blame it all on her childhood. For most of her adult life, she’d been afraid to try anything. Afraid to do something as simple as ride a damn bike.
She attempted a swizzle. It didn’t go well. Her feet got stuck when she spread them apart. She knew she was supposed to point them toward each other now, but it seemed like she was headed toward the splits instead. And she couldn’t do the splits.
But then Zach’s hands were on her waist, and he lifted her up. When he set her back down, she turned to face him. She was very, very close to him. His chin nearly brushed her forehead. His arms were still around her. A thrill sizzled through her body, from her helmet-covered head to her toes. He has his arms around me.
“Not like that,” he said quietly, pulling away from her.
“I know.” She missed the heat of his body. “That was horrible.”
She was about to try again, but he put a hand on her shoulder.
“They’re clearing the ice for the Zamboni,” he said.
She’d been oblivious to the rest of the rink. It was hard to concentrate on anything but trying not to topple over. And being close to Zach.
They sat on one of the benches outside. Zach rested his forearms on his knees and clasped his hands tightly. He hadn’t shaved for a day or two, and she found his stubble incredibly sexy. She couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like against her skin. What
it would feel like to kiss him.
“So what do you do?” he asked.
It took her a moment to remember the answer to that question. “I’m a structural engineer.”
“Which firm?”
She told him. He hadn’t heard of it, which surprised him but not her. It wasn’t a very big company.
“I work for my dad—he’s a developer—so I know a lot of engineering companies,” he said.
“Going to take over one day?”
“In a few years.”
Zach was probably quite well off. Better off than she was, anyway. Elise was one paycheck away from paying off her student loans, and normally that made her feel rich.
She turned toward him. He was looking at the Zamboni, his arms still on his knees, and he looked…haunted. Her thoughts slid back to kissing him, to wondering if a little make-out session would wipe that look off his face.
When they were allowed back on the ice a minute later, he grabbed her hand and took her for a spin again. Faster this time, but he still kept her safe, expertly weaving his way between other skaters.
She didn’t ask him out for coffee, but he offered to walk her home. She agreed. Of course she agreed. But at the same time, she reminded herself not to think this meant anything.
They passed a small park on the way up to Finch, and in an effort to cheer him up, she made a snowball and threw it at him. It hit him in the back.
“Oh really,” he said. “You want to start that?”
She ran into the park as he made a snowball of his own, which she managed to dodge. And the next two as well—he was probably trying not to hit her, gentleman that he was.
“You have terrible aim,” she said, ducking behind a tree as she packed another snowball.
He was ready for her when she emerged from behind the tree, and a snowball hit her square in the chest before she could throw her own. She fell to the ground. Honestly, she didn’t need to fall, but she wanted to catch him off guard.
He stood motionless for a second—perhaps he was sorry he’d actually hit her—but then she sat up and threw her snowball. It hit his jaw. He rubbed the spot where she’d hit him and smiled faintly. Yes. That’s what she wanted.
He lobbed another snowball, which hit her shoulder, and then two more. One hit her arm, and the other hit her chest. How could he make snowballs so fast? Was this another skill she’d missed out on, like biking and skating, by spending her childhood in the library? She finally managed to throw one, hitting the back of his bare neck. He grimaced slightly, probably more from the cold than anything else since she hadn’t thrown it very hard.
“That hurt,” he said, eyes crinkling.
“You’re a big baby,” she shot back.
He threw another one and it hit her chin. Yeah, that sure was cold.
“That’ll teach you.”
Under the guise of having him pull her up, she held out her hands. And when he’d taken them, she pulled him down with her.
He was strong. He could have resisted. But he didn’t.
So for the second time, they ended up lying on their backs in the cold, staring up at the sky. Again, she fantasized about him rolling on top of her, caressing her cold face, slipping his tongue between her lips. And then…
Well, she had quite the active imagination where Zach was concerned.
He didn’t stay on the ground long though, and he soon stood and helped her up. For a few seconds, they were very, very close once again. And this time she wasn’t wearing skates, so she was in no danger of falling.
Oh wait. Maybe she was. Her legs were awfully weak.
He stepped back, and his lips curled into a smile that made her heart skip a beat. Or two. Hopefully no more than that.
“I haven’t done that in ages,” he said.
“Neither have I.” She brushed the snow off her ass, wishing he would do it for her. God, she was pathetic. “You going to be there again next week?”
“I will. And you’ll be sorry you pulled me into the snowbank.”
Now she could think of nothing but all the ways he could make her sorry. Mmmm.
“I look forward to it,” she said.
Chapter Three
Zach resisted the urge to throw his keyboard out the window. And his monitor and computer. God, why couldn’t he think straight?
At least now he could blame it on the time—it was four o’clock on Friday afternoon. Of course, that wasn’t the real reason. But it was late enough that he could leave and go to the gym. No point sitting here and accomplishing nothing. It wasn’t like anyone would be looking for him at this time on a Friday.
Five minutes later, he told his secretary, Rupi, that he was leaving for the day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d left before five. She was always gone by the time he left.
“Big plans for the weekend?” she said.
He shook his head.
“What’s her name?”
So this was what he got for leaving early. Rupi tilted her head and smiled at him.
He stared her down. “There isn’t a woman.”
“Okay.” She seemed doubtful and then suddenly brightened.
Shit. He knew where this was going.
“My friend Natasha—”
“No,” he said.
Every couple months, Rupi had a new friend she wanted to set him up with. This had been going on for four years—at least twenty women now. All of them “just perfect” for him. All of whom Zach had refused to meet.
No big deal, really. He just said no and got on with it. But today he was pissed off already, and this just tipped him over the edge.
“For the love of God, don’t try to set me up with any more of your friends,” he said. “I’m not interested in any of them. In anyone.”
Rupi didn’t shrink away. “Zach, I think you—”
“No. The answer is no.”
And as he said that—well, practically shouted it—he thought of Elise. Even though she was not the reason he’d said no, and he was not going to pursue her. Yes, he’d shown up for skating last Sunday, and he planned to go again in two days. But he was not going after her even though he did like spending time with her. He wanted better for Elise than what he could offer, which was a week or two of sex and nothing more.
And this thought pissed him off even further. He wasn’t disturbed that he wanted more for her… Okay, maybe he was slightly disturbed by that. But he was more disturbed by how little he had to offer. Especially now, when anger just poured out of him most of the time. Although, come to think of it, he wasn’t so bad when Elise was around.
He stomped out of the office. Before getting into his car, he called Larry and asked if his friend from university would be up for beers tomorrow.
Zach wanted to pick up. Get laid. Forget about Darren. And Elise, for that matter. Larry was always up for going out, and indeed, he said he’d be happy to hit the town with Zach tomorrow. Excellent. Zach smiled for the first time all day.
Then he drove to the gym and beat his body down hard yet again.
»»•««
“You can take us out for junk food,” Maddie said. “We won’t tell Mommy.”
Zach was driving her and Ethan to the swimming pool in Tracey’s car, which, unlike his mini SUV, had the proper booster seats. So far, so good.
But they’d been in the car all of five minutes.
“Then what will you tell your mom when she asks what you had for lunch?” he asked.
“We’ll say we had vegetables!” Ethan said. “Lots and lots of vegetables!”
“It’s not good to lie.” Zach suppressed a laugh. “And your mom wouldn’t believe that one.”
Ethan considered this a moment. “Yeah, Mommy can usually tell when I’m lying.”
“Sometimes lying is good,” Maddie said. “Like when your grandma buys you an ugly sweater for Christmas, you need to smile and say, ‘Thank you, Grandma, for the nice sweater.’ Or when you go to your friend’s house for dinner and the food tast
es disgusting, you can lie and say it’s delicious. It’s okay to tell small lies so you don’t hurt someone’s feelings.”
“So if I’m a terrible swimmer, you can lie to me and say I swim like a fish?” Zach asked.
Maddie giggled. “Yes. Unless you’re drowning. Then I’ll tell you that you can’t swim. And the lifeguard will have to save you because I’m not big enough.”
Yeah, Zach could totally manage this. The kids were comfortable with him, and it would be fun. He’d been a bit worried—he’d never been alone with Maddie and Ethan before, or any kids at all, as far as he could remember. He was an only child, so he had no nieces or nephews.
“So where are we going to eat?” Maddie asked.
Zach wasn’t sure. He’d planned on taking them out for burgers, but that went against Tracey’s “no junk food” rule.
“What about falafels?” he said. Falafels, being deep fried, weren’t exactly health food, but they weren’t junk food in Zach’s books.
“What are fa-la-lulls?” Maddie said.
“Fa-fa-lo-los!” Ethan shouted.
“Fa-la-fels,” Zach said. “Fa-la—like the musical notes. Then ‘full,’ like ‘Maddie and Ethan are full of salad.’”
“Ewww,” Ethan said.
They were at a red light, and Zach looked back to see the boy’s look of disgust.
“Nobody gets full on salad,” Maddie said. “Except Greek salad. Do you know what Greek salad is, Zach?”
“I do.”
“Lots of feta cheese and olives. Mmmm.” She leaned toward her brother. “Ethan loves Greek salad.”
“Yuck,” Ethan said.
“You can put olives on your falafel, Maddie,” Zach said. “It’s a type of sandwich. They let you choose your toppings.”
He remembered a drawing of Maddie’s that had been on Darren and Tracey’s fridge a while back. My favorite foods are olives and candy, she’d written below a picture of a smiling girl sitting in front of a table of food.
“Faa-laa!” Ethan sang. “We’re going to eat musical sandwiches. But I don’t have to put olives on mine, right?” he asked, suddenly concerned.
Meet Me on the Ice Page 2
