by Piper Rayne
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Jana has told me that multiple times, but I don’t believe her.
“I took off my shirt, offered myself up on a silver platter, and he ran out of the room as fast as he could.” I haven’t told her that he complimented my breasts, but I guess that’s the least he could’ve done.
“Relax, maybe you two are playing some game. It’s his form of foreplay or something.”
“I don’t do games,” I say.
Her head bobbles. I love my best friend, but she’s never had a guy tell her no. It stings, to put it mildly.
We hear the kids before we see them step through the opening into the arena. Each of them has wide eyes and their mouths hanging open as they look at all the seats, the Jumbotron, the ice.
“Man,” one kid says. “I can’t believe this.”
Another kid hits the first kid on the chest with his forearm. “You know there’s a catch. They’re using us to look good.”
A girl with braids on either side of her head pushes between them. “Who the hell cares? Use me all you want. This is amazing.” She turns to me, but her gaze shifts to the bench where everything is laid out. “Holy crap, is that for us?”
All the other kids take notice and they each run, finding the set with their name on the back of the jersey.
The girl with braids looks at me. “Like, these are for us?”
I nod. “Hi, I’m Paisley.”
None of them introduce themselves, too enthralled with everything. Maybe I went about this all wrong.
“Hello!” Jana screams. “She introduced herself.”
All the kids look at her.
The first boy who came in stares her up and down. “Where did you come from?”
“My dreams,” the other boy says.
“I like your outfit, where can I get one?” a different girl, who’s now next to the one with braids, asks.
“Really?” Jana asks, giving me a look over their shoulder like ‘I told you so.’ “Well—”
Both girls laugh. “No.”
Jana’s smile dims, but I know she has mirrors in her house. Then again, she gets away with a lot of the fashion chances she takes—just not this one.
I run my hand over Jana’s arm to soothe her ego. Kids are straightforward. Then I clap to try to gain their attention. They all turn in my direction for a moment, but quickly return to conversations of their own.
“Okay, quiet down,” I say. I don’t have a teacher’s voice though. I have a soothing psychologist’s voice and it’s not getting me anywhere with these kids. “Please have a seat.”
Still nothing. Jana purses her lips, watching the kids ignore me.
“Kids!” I say in the loudest voice I have, but it still lacks the authority I need.
“Sit down!” Jana yells.
All the kids look at her.
The first kid who walked in raises his eyebrows at her. “Calm down, Jane Fonda.”
“Who the hell is Jane Fonda?” a red-haired kid asks.
“My mom found her video tapes at the Salvation Army and she’s doing them every day. She dresses just like her,” one of the girls says.
Jana’s bottom lip trembles before anger replaces it. I laugh at my best friend. I know a lot of trends have come back, but I don’t think leotards with spandex and leg warmers have. Maybe she’s starting something though.
“Your mom doesn’t need to work out. She’s got an amazing ass,” another kid says.
“Okay, that’s enough chitchatting,” I say. “Sit down so we can go over what we’re going to do today.”
They listen this time and sit on the bench.
“We were told the Fury players were gonna be here,” the girl in braids says. “You two definitely aren’t them. Is he?” She thumbs toward Sid.
Sid might be able to pass for a retired hockey player.
“No. That’s Sid, he’s with security.”
The red-haired kid leans into the first kid. “He’s here to make sure we don’t steal anything.”
“That is not what I meant.” I give the kid a stern look, but he’s not concerned about me.
“Then why is he here? To help us in case you go mental?” the red-haired kid asks.
Jana shakes her head. “Just be quiet and listen to her. This is ridiculous.”
When they finally quiet down, I introduce myself again. “I’m Paisley Pearce, and I’m your coach. This is Jana, and she’s going to assist me.”
“Assist us in learning twirls?” the girl in braids asks.
“No, she knows how to skate. How many of you know how to skate?”
Half of them raise their hands.
“And out of you, how comfortable are you in skates?”
Half of them wave their hands back and forth. Oh boy, do I have my work cut out for me. Then again, we’re in Florida. I don’t know why I expected any different.
“That’s fine. I just wanted to know where to start. We’ll work on skating first. Let’s do some introductions so I know who everyone is.” I point at the first kid who came in.
“Malcolm,” the kid says.
The red-haired kid says, “Dru.”
“Meaning Drew, as in Andrew,” Malcolm corrects him.
“It’s D.R.U.”
The group rolls their eyes.
“Okay, Dru.” I continue down the line.
The girl in braids speaks up. “I’m Lark.”
“And I’m Marin,” the other girl says.
They’re the only two girls in the group, and I can already tell that they’re probably going to be the toughest.
“Great. Each of you have your jerseys. If you want to just put them over your shirts, then we can get your skates on.”
After Jana and I work tirelessly to get all their laces done up tightly enough on their skates, I’m already exhausted and I haven’t even helped them to stand on their skates.
“Jana is going to show you the basics of skating.”
Jana opens up the door and glides out onto the ice.
“Man, I’d learn to figure skate just to put my hands on her thighs in a lift,” Dru says.
“You watch figure skating?” Lark gives him a judgmental glare.
“Um, there are half-naked women on there. I’m not ashamed.”
“Let’s focus on her footwork,” I say. “Look how she shifts her weight from one leg and pushes off with the opposite one.”
“That’s a lot to ask, Miss Paisley,” Dru says, and I’m pretty sure his eyes are fixed on Jana’s ass and not her footwork.
“Where are the Fury players? I want to learn to hit,” Malcolm chimes in, looking around.
“I can probably get a few here one day, but for the most part, it’s just going to be Jana and me.”
They groan.
“You’re going to teach us how to hit a puck in the net?” Dru asks skeptically, looking at Malcolm as though we’re from Mars.
Jana stops herself on the edge of the wall instead of using her skates. So maybe she’s not as good as she was once. “See how much fun this is?”
“Use a stick and a puck.” Marin grabs a stick, hands it over the boards to Jana, then throws the puck on the ice.
“Sure.” Jana gives me a fleeting look of terror but takes the stick and hits the puck. She’s clearly unable to control the puck because she’s chasing it more than anything.
The kids all watch her, some groaning, others sighing, and the rest looking on with disbelief. I imagine they all had high hopes, and now I feel like shit for taking away their opportunity to learn from a Fury player because I was too embarrassed to face him.
I’m a giver. I’ve always been a giver, and yeah, sometimes that’s gotten me into trouble. Gotten my heart broken. For instance, when I gave my dad a chance at fifteen—after he said he wanted to have a relationship with me—only for his new wife to tell him he couldn’t take me on a trip to Paris when she’d yet to go there herself. And that’s only one instance.
After t
oday, I’m going to have to suck up my pride and ask Maksim to help me with these kids. But right now, they’re here and we need to make the most of it.
I grab the skate trainers that slide along the ice to help them learn. “Everyone, take one of these and make your way to the ice. Use these until you feel comfortable.”
They listen to me and venture out onto the ice. Some of their ankles buckle, but each of them seems to have a perseverance that’s admirable. Dru follows Jana around as if she’s a supermodel, and the girls laugh together while they find their footing. Malcolm falls and his walker slides away from him, leaving him helpless on the ice. All the kids glance over and look at each other uncomfortably as he crawls over to the door leading to the bench.
Malcolm pulls off his helmet and tosses it across the way. “This is so stupid. I’m ready to leave.”
As the kids all start venturing off the ice, one thing becomes clear—Malcolm is their leader. Whatever he says goes. Even Dru holds on for life as he makes his way over to his friend. He mumbles how right Malcolm is, that this is lame and wondering why they even bothered coming.
I’m about to lose them and I feel terrible. Also, how the hell am I going to explain this to Mr. Gerhardt?
I watch from the team hallway to the arena. I should save Paisley. The kids want to see a Fury team member and they were promised one. But that day in her office when she laughed, she also put her hand on my chest and pushed me away, saying she had it under control and that my presence wasn’t necessary—or wanted.
The kid is embarrassed that he fell, and from what I gather, he’s the leader of their group. How he reacts, what he does, will be what the others follow. So I’m not surprised to see the rest of them getting off the ice in comradery with their friend.
I look down at my jean-clad legs and skates. I need to just skate out there and take control whether Paisley wants me here or not.
She looks at the ceiling and her eyes close for a moment. Jana comes up next to her, putting her hand on Paisley’s back.
Yeah, fuck it, I’m going in.
I walk out, open the door to the ice, and glide out with my stick in hand. Without granting them any attention, I hit the puck Jana pitifully tried to handle. I do a few fancy tricks, nothing crazy, then backhand the puck into the goal.
When I skate around, all the kids are watching me in awe. Gotta say, I never tire of that look. I switch my focus to Paisley. She’s wearing the slightest of smiles, but I know there’s gratitude there. I’m doing my best to respect her boundaries, but sometimes people get in their own way.
“Hey, guys,” I say.
“Maksim Petrov?” the kid who made a spectacle of himself says.
I nod.
“How did you do that?” he asks.
“It’s easy, I could do that,” the red-haired kid says, and all the kids disagree in unison. “It didn’t look that hard.”
I hold out my stick for him. “Want to give it a try?”
“Well, um…”
I smile. I like the kid’s confidence though.
“Want to see another one?” I ask.
“Yeah!” they all scream.
“I’ll need Miss Paisley to come and assist me.”
Paisley’s already shaking her head. “I don’t know how to skate.”
The girl in braids holds out a stick to her.
“Then let me teach you.” I skate over to the opening, holding out my hand.
All the kids cheer her on. She must realize she has no chance of declining in front of the kids because she takes my hand. I accept the stick from the girl in braids, holding both in my one hand while I clench Paisley’s hand with my other so she doesn’t fall on the ice.
“I’m not any good,” she whispers once we’re in the middle of the ice.
“It will do them good to see you fall. Make them understand this isn’t easy and they’re not going to get it their first time,” I tell her. A whiff of her perfume floats up to my nostrils and all I can think about is how she looked in her bra that night, lying on the hotel room bed.
“Maybe you should be the one who falls,” she says.
I shrug. “I’m the one they look up to.”
Being unable to stop on her skates, she falls right into me. Her soft breasts press against my hard chest. “Exactly.”
“Okay, okay. But I’ll have to do some move that’s crazy skilled before that happens.”
She laughs.
We skate around the oval once, and when she’s a little steadier on her skates, I hand her the stick. “Ready?”
Although she looks as though she might throw up, she nods. I love how determined she is. I’m easy on her, me skating backward and her forward toward me.
“Just glide toward me slowly. I’m here if you fall,” I softly say so it’s only us who can hear.
“GO, PAISE!” Jana screams.
“GO, MAKSIM!” the boys chant.
“Keep coming.” I pretend to get the puck, but she hunkers down and slaps the stick on the ice, getting it away.
Since she has no shot, I grab the puck and move it between us again.
“Thanks,” she says.
“You’re going to be the one that scores,” I tell her and she shakes her head.
“Listen to me. All you have to do is skate closer to me, get the puck in the middle of the stick, knock it to the right, and pick up the stick and place it on the other side, knocking it left, and it will go right into the goal.”
“You’re kidding me, right? I can barely stand up straight in these skates, let alone direct a puck.”
“I got you.” I wink.
For a moment, it’s only us here. There aren’t a bunch of little eyes watching our every move.
“You better have me,” she says.
“Trust me.” I meet her gaze, and she gives me a quick nod. “Okay, ready. Set. Go.”
She directs the puck and lifts the stick just in time. When she hits it to go into the net, she doesn’t hit it hard enough, so as I pretend skate to stop the puck from going in, I give it a little tap and the buzzer goes off. Everyone cheers.
“Let’s see your celly,” I say.
“Celly?”
“Your celebration move after scoring.”
Paisley stops skating, holds on to the edge, then claps.
I shake my head. “That’s no celly, am I right?” I yell over to the kids.
“No!” they holler back.
I skate over, dropping my stick, and pick her up and skate her around the ice. “Raise your hands and celebrate.”
She does, and her smile is so genuine and pure, my heart aches, wishing it were for me. I set her down back where we started.
“You did this so you could touch me, didn’t you?” she whispers.
I shrug. “You’ll never know. Come and introduce me to the kids.”
I take her hand and we skate over to the group, her releasing my hand immediately once we get there.
“Very impressive,” Jana says.
“She did great.”
Paisley rolls her eyes but starts the introductions. “This is Maksim Petrov, for those of you who don’t know. He’s the defenseman for the Florida Fury.”
“My mom says you’re scary,” Marin says.
“I love it when you fight,” Dru chimes in.
“And when you sprayed water on that one fan who wouldn’t leave you alone? Awesome,” another kid whose name I didn’t catch says.
“Glad you like the way I play, but my job as a defenseman is to help out my goalie. Have his back, plus protect my center and wingmen. Sometimes fights are necessary to make sure they know I’m watching.”
“Will you teach us to skate like that?” Dru asks.
“Please, this is stupid. When are we ever going to do this outside of a rink?” Malcolm says. “We live in Florida, not the North Pole.”
Dru looks at his friend. “True.”
“Yeah, he’s from Russia. He was probably born with skates,” the girl I think
is Lark says.
“Well, that would’ve hurt my mom,” I joke, but I can see I’m losing them, so I set my eyes on Malcolm. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes for what?” he grumbles.
“In ten minutes, you’ll be able to skate around the rink. Maybe nothing fancy, but you’ll be able to skate.”
He waves me off. “Whatever.”
“Are you afraid?” I pin him with a stare.
Dru’s eyes widen. But I know that a kid who acts like Malcolm will back down when someone says he might be afraid.
“No. I just think this whole thing is stupid,” Malcolm says.
“Fair enough. Feel free to sit out. How about you, Dru? Ten minutes?”
Dru looks at his friend and bites his lip. “Nah, man, I’m here.” He sits down next to Malcolm.
“I’m game!” Lark raises her hand.
“What the hell?” Dru says.
Lark looks at Dru and Dru eyes Malcolm. “If he wants to sit there and act tough, I don’t care, but we’re here and will probably never have the chance to learn from someone like him again.” She comes out to the ice, holding on to the side.
“Okay, Lark. Hold my hands.”
She puts hers in mine. She wobbles a bit, but she doesn’t let go, instead getting a look of determination on her face.
“You skate forward, I skate backward, and I’ll help you balance.” I start skating and she follows me. “One foot and then the other.” At first, she’s trying to walk. “Glide. Push off with one foot.”
Ten minutes later, we’re all watching Lark skate on her own. Sure, she loses her balance once in a while and looks like she might fall backward, but she’s doing it and I’m damn proud of her.
“Anyone else?” Paisley asks.
“Me.” Marin comes out with me and picks it up quicker than her friend did. Five minutes later, she joins Lark, the two of them skating side by side.
After that, most of the kids come out and ask to learn. Our time is about to end and only Dru and Malcolm are still on the bench, pretending they’re bored. I decide to give it another shot, leaving Paisley and Jana to manage the group on the ice.
“When I was little, I was afraid to skate. Sure, I was a lot younger than you, but I’d go on the weekends and watch my dad skate in a men’s league. Some of the guys would leave with blood gushing out of their mouths and broken noses. The game was much rougher then than how it’s played now. Maybe that’s because it was Russia.” I shrug. “But my friend Armen told me he wouldn’t do it if I didn’t do it. He picked it up immediately, while I didn’t. I just couldn’t get the hang of gliding and would always end up face-first on the ice or in a snow pile because I couldn’t stop.”
