Meet Me on the Ice

by Laura Jardine

  She couldn’t wait for that night alone with him in the hotel. He’d called her yesterday, told her he’d made a reservation. Good. She’d been a bit worried he was going to back out, try to preserve her innocence or some such bullshit. He seemed to think that, as much as he wanted it, this was the wrong thing to do.

  But it couldn’t be. She’d never wanted a man quite like she wanted Zach, and she was convinced he’d show her the kind of crazy night she’d never had. And that, even if it didn’t go anywhere, had to be the right thing.

  She slid up against the headboard and took her vibrator out of the night table. She squirmed as she rubbed it around her entrance. When she shifted the toy to her clit and turned it on, she closed her eyes and imagined Zach licking her. Oh, yes. She wanted his tongue on her, just as much as she wanted his cock, his hands holding her open so he could feast on her and drive her mad. And then, once she was begging him for release, he would slide inside her, filling her to the brink. And when he started to move, deep within her…

  Elise pushed the toy inside her body. She moved it in and out, faster and faster. His hard body against hers, his hand slipping between her legs to rub her clit, overwhelming her with sensation… She released a shuddering breath as her orgasm overtook her, bringing her up, up, up.

  Afterward, she wrapped her arms around her chest and pretended he was holding her. She hadn’t felt at all pathetic for masturbating and thinking of Zach, but this, this she felt pathetic for. Holding herself and pretending it was a guy who said all he’d give her was a little sex? Yeah, that was pretty fucking pathetic.

  She did believe he was capable of more. With the right woman. She wasn’t confident enough to believe she was definitely the right woman, but maybe she was.

  Chapter Nine

  Zach picked up Elise just after seven on Saturday morning. She put her knapsack and jacket in the back seat and sat beside him. She was wearing a large brown sweater that left an awful lot to the imagination, so it was a good thing he had an overactive imagination when it came to Elise.

  For the first five minutes, they chatted about what they would do in Ottawa. The ice sculptures, the snow sculptures, the canal. They didn’t talk about what would happen after dinner, but that’s all he could think about. In fact, that was all he’d been thinking about the entire week. Being alone in a hotel room with Elise…how could he possibly think about anything else?

  It was probably a good thing. He hadn’t needed to spend as much time at the gym to work off his anger over Darren.

  Elise fell asleep twenty minutes later, and Zach just kept on driving and thinking about what she looked like under that enormous sweater. He drove all the way to Belleville, where she woke up when he stopped for a coffee. She drove for a while after that, and Zach tried and failed to get a little sleep himself. He took over driving soon after they got on the 416.

  “I can’t believe I’ve never been to Ottawa before,” she said. “It’s really not that far. But I’ve hardly traveled at all, even within Ontario.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Umm, New York and…” She sighed. “This is embarrassing. I bet you’ve been lots of places.”

  He’d traveled a lot, it was true. And now he was picturing having sex with Elise in hotel rooms around the world. Yeah, he certainly had a one-track mind right now.

  “I haven’t even been to Montreal.”

  He opened his mouth to suggest they go there together but then quickly snapped it shut. This isn’t going to last, remember. You won’t get the chance to go anywhere else with her.

  Less than an hour later, he turned onto the 417, the highway that ran through the city. So close. They were going to get some lunch in the market and then tackle the canal. See the ice sculptures and the Parliament Buildings.

  A cube van in the next lane caught his eye. It was just an ordinary cube van, but it was emblazoned with a company name.

  Darren White Restoration.

  Zach felt like someone had smacked him in the chest with a brick. His breath came short and shallow. He clenched the steering wheel and kept looking at the van. Darren White. What were the odds?

  He wanted to follow it. As though it meant something, as though it would lead him—

  “Stop!” Elise shouted.

  Zach slammed on the brakes and narrowly avoided hitting the truck in front of him. Luckily there was no one behind him—not that he’d noticed until now.

  “What the hell?” she said. “Why weren’t you paying attention?”

  He was driving slowly now, far below the speed limit. “I…I saw…I’m sorry…”

  “Get off the highway.” Her voice was quieter now, but firm. “There’s an exit in five hundred meters. Take it.”

  At the end of the ramp, she directed him to turn right and then left into the parking lot of a plaza. He parked and turned off the car.

  “Shit, Zach. You scared me.”

  He stared out at the parking lot, at people getting in and out of their cars, going about their daily lives. He wanted to scream at them. Don’t you realize you could drop dead any minute?

  “Are you okay?”

  He rubbed his hands over his face. No, he was not okay, but he wasn’t sure what to say about it. He skated with Elise; he did not tell her about his life. But he’d nearly gotten them in an accident. He felt like he owed her the truth.

  “My friend…my closest friend…” Zach swallowed. He was not good at this talking business. “He passed away in December. A heart attack while shoveling his driveway. Apparently he had a heart condition he didn’t know about.”

  Elise squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “The van I was looking at—it was for a company with his name. Darren White.” He shook his head and continued to look out the windshield. “Now that I think about it, I remember him telling me that there was a company named after him. The conversation probably descended into inappropriate jokes about what the business could be.”

  “So that’s why you looked like you saw a ghost,” she said.

  “Is that how I looked?”

  In response, she kneaded his shoulder. It felt awfully nice, and not in a sexual way, when she touched him now. Comforting, rather.

  “Let’s stay here for a few minutes.” He reached his left hand across his chest and wrapped it around her fingers.

  “Sure.” She paused. “If there’s anything I can do for you right now, anything you want to talk about…”

  “Mostly I’m just angry at how unfair it is.”

  “It is unfair.”

  She was probably saying that because Darren had been so young. But to Zach, it was more than that.

  “So I go to the gym all the time,” he said. “I even got a punching bag for my basement.”

  “At least you’re doing something productive. It’s better than the alternatives.”

  “Maybe not to the extent I do it. When I met you—that day, I’d gotten so sick of the gym that I went skating instead.”

  “Well, I’m glad you got sick of the gym.”

  Zach smiled faintly as he watched a couple and their three young children get out of a red minivan. He took a deep breath. “Darren had a wife and two kids. That’s what makes me so angry. His fatherless children, his widowed wife.”

  “Are these the kids you take swimming?” she asked.

  “Yes. They’re five and eight. It’s hard. I know nothing about kids, and grief in children is strange and unpredictable. At least to me. Maybe it isn’t if you know anything about kids.” He kept looking straight ahead. He wouldn’t be able to finish if he looked at her. “It should have been me.”

  There was a long silence before she said, “What do you mean?”

  He clenched his hand into a fist around her fingers. “I should have died. Not him.”

  “Oh, Zach.” She put her other hand to his cheek and turned his face toward her. Her eyes were red. He wished he hadn’t burdened her with this.

  “Are you going to tel
l me I shouldn’t feel that way?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t feel that way. It’s clearly tearing you apart.”

  “He had a family. I don’t. It would have been easier if it had been me instead.”

  She leaned closer and stroked his face. “Your life isn’t worthless. You don’t need to have a family for your life to mean something. I care about you, and I’m sure lots of other people do, too.”

  He didn’t feel like he deserved that. He looked away.

  “Have you thought about talking to someone?” she asked. “It sounds a bit like survivor guilt.”

  “There’s a name for this?”

  “I think it often happens when you go through a traumatic event with someone, and they don’t survive, but you do. Like if you survived a fatal car crash. What you’re going through sounds similar. Of course, I don’t know much about this. Maybe I’m wrong. But you’re obviously very upset, and it might help to see someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

  “My mom gave me a list of names. I haven’t looked at it.”

  She exhaled slowly. “It seems like you bottle everything up and don’t think you should have these feelings.”

  He nodded. I shouldn’t.

  This was when he usually punched something, but he couldn’t do that here. Instead, he pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. It was a little awkward—her back was pressed against the steering wheel—but it felt so, so good.

  She cares about me. What had he done to deserve that? Nothing. But Elise was here, in his arms, her cheek against his.

  He kissed her softly. Deeply. Trying to get more and more of her each time he opened his mouth and pressed it to hers.

  It was completely unlike their frantic kiss in the hallway last weekend. And this time, he wasn’t thinking of getting her naked in the hotel room. No, he wasn’t thinking about that at all. He was just thinking that he needed to keep Elise, and the thought that he couldn’t, that he would need to give her up soon, because that’s what always happened, opened up a gaping hole in his heart.

  He tightened his hold on her, and then, worrying he might be squeezing her too hard, let up just a little.

  “I’m here for you,” she whispered. “I like you very much.”

  If only. If only he could keep her.

  “Let’s get some food,” he said.

  »»•««

  Half an hour later, they sat in a pub in downtown Ottawa, studying their menus in silence. Well, Elise was only pretending to study her menu. She’d quickly decided what she wanted.

  She wondered if his refusal to believe he could have a real relationship, his insistence that he was only good for flings, had something to do with Darren. It seemed like Zach thought of himself as the opposite of his friend, the family man, and couldn’t allow himself to encroach on what he saw as his friend’s territory, especially now that Darren was dead.

  Maybe she was overthinking this. But it seemed strange that a man who could care so much believed such things were off-limits to him.

  She looked up at Zach. His face was serious as he scanned the menu. He grasped her knee under the table, and she placed her hand on top of his. He’d been so affectionate in the car, and although the circumstances that led him to parking at the plaza weren’t so good, being held like that…well, that was a different matter. Two people who weren’t used to intimacy holding each other. And then she’d opened up to him a little about her feelings, and he seized up and suggested they leave.

  But he was touching her again now, and a ghost of a smile crossed his face as he closed the menu.

  There wasn’t much conversation during lunch, but his hand never left her leg. And when they walked out of the pub and headed to the canal, he reached for her hand.

  The canal was not quite what Elise had expected.

  “Holy shit,” she said when she saw it. “It’s so busy.” She’d thought that if it was more than seven kilometers long, surely it couldn’t be too crowded. But it was packed.

  Zach laughed at her shock. “It sure is. But it’s Saturday afternoon.”

  They made their way down the stairs and sat on a snowbank to put on their skates. Every thirty seconds or so, Elise put her hands back in her mitts to warm them. It was a bright sunny day, but so cold. Toronto rarely got this cold, except for the day she’d met Zach. And yet the ice was full of people. Some were just walking in their winter boots rather than skating. But since she could skate a little now, that didn’t need to be her.

  The Rideau Canal was a totally different skating experience from what Elise was used to. Not only was it busier, but the ice was not as smooth. They skated away from the Parliament Buildings and Chateau Laurier, and she looked at her feet most of the time, focused on keeping herself upright.

  “We should rent one of those,” she said, pointing to a man pushing a child in a red sleigh.

  “Not a chance,” Zach said. “You’re skating.”

  This conversation distracted her enough that she caught her pick in a hole. His arms were around her almost immediately.

  “They need to Zamboni the crap out of this,” she said, once he’d let go of her.

  He laughed.

  “I think I’ll catch my pick in another hole up ahead so you’ll put your arms around me again.” She put her hand to her mouth—she couldn’t believe how bold she was around Zach.

  “You don’t need to resort to that,” he said quietly, reaching for her hand.

  After what felt like forever, but according to her watch was only twenty minutes, they stopped at a set of booths selling food and drinks. They stood in line for hot chocolate and BeaverTails—fried dough in the shape of, well, beaver tails. She wondered who had come up with that idea, and if she could get rich selling fried dough shaped like the CN Tower in Toronto. Everyone liked fried food, right?

  But she didn’t feel like mentioning that not-so-brilliant idea out loud.

  “How far have we gone?” she asked.

  Zach pointed to a number on a lamp post. “More than a kilometer.”

  “Wow.” Then she realized this was probably nothing to everyone else. “I guess you could have been halfway down the canal if it weren’t for me.”

  “But that’s not what I’m here for,” he said, and her insides swooned. “How much farther do you want to skate?”

  “Maybe we should just turn around. Go back to see the ice sculptures.” She didn’t want to wear herself out in case she needed lots of energy for tonight’s…activities.

  They bought two hot chocolates and a cinnamon sugar BeaverTail to share, and sat down on a snowbank to eat. Eating and skating at the same time was definitely not happening.

  It was a very nice date. Or non-date. But she didn’t say that out loud, either.

  »»•««

  Zach was starting to think he might be able to have Elise, and not just for a few nights. It wasn’t inevitable he’d use her and leave, right? He could keep her, he could be a good boyfriend, couldn’t he? He knew he wouldn’t get bored of her in a couple weeks. Not when it felt so good to touch her—and they weren’t even in bed, but standing in a tent in the cold, looking at ice sculptures. The one in front of them was of Thor.

  “How does one get into ice carving?” she asked.

  “I have no idea.” He turned to look at her rather than Thor. She was so bundled up he could only see bits of her face. But he pulled her hat down farther over her ears because he didn’t want her to get cold. It was damn chilly here.

  He never wanted to let her go. She helped him feel better without punishing his body. It wasn’t like she made everything all right. But manageable. Such a dull word, but it still meant a lot to him.

  “I like the one of the Mountie,” she said. “What about you?”

  Oh, right. He was supposed to be looking at ice sculptures. “I prefer Peter Pan.”

  After the ice sculptures, they walked by the Parliament Buildings before taking the bus to Jacques-Cartier Park. They looked at
the snow sculptures, and Elise insisted they go on one of the snow slides. He wished there was something similar in Toronto—he would take Maddie and Ethan.

  It was dark by the time they got back to the car.

  “Let’s skate on the canal at night. Not too far though.” She paused. “It’s romantic, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” he said, and it was probably the first time in a very long time that he hadn’t run screaming when someone said the word “romantic.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were on the ice again. He wished he could be alone with her, but there were still many skaters, though not crowds like there had been earlier.

  “I always wanted to do this at night,” she said. “And by ‘always,’ I mean since last weekend.”

  He took her hand and they skated with the wind.

  “With you,” she added quietly.

  He couldn’t pretend she wasn’t an awkward and slow skater, but given she’d first stepped on the ice four weeks ago, she was doing pretty well. He liked to think he’d helped, though he doubted he’d done all that much. She’d been determined to learn, whether he was there or not.

  He wanted to teach her how to ride a bike. Wanted to help her learn to swim, and see her in a bathing suit. Wanted to take her camping, wanted to take her to all the places she’d never traveled.

  But more than anything, he wanted to kiss her. Right now.

  He led her off to the side and stopped. Before he dropped his head to hers, he wrapped his arms securely around her, in case she lost her balance. And then he covered her mouth with his.

  Perhaps it would be better if he hadn’t lost some of the sensation in his face from the bitter cold. But he was kissing Elise. Not for the first time, but for the first time since thinking this could be one of countless kisses over many months, and maybe longer.

  He kissed her fiercely.

  Her mitten was on his cheek now, the other hand at the back of his neck. Damn all this clothing, the temperature far below freezing. He wanted to feel her bare hands, wanted to touch her skin. God, there was so much he wanted. All of her naked for him, all of her for him to pleasure. And not just for tonight.