by M. C. Cerny
Damien grumbled, “Awe, don’t get all Harding on me. I need these knees if you want another blow…” The look between Damien and Kristen was enough to smolder a forest fire and I preferred to not get burned when one or both of them decided to light a match.
“Okay, that’s your cue to leave. I’ve got the check, just go.” Waving them off, I pushed Kristen out of the booth gently. I wasn’t a complete jerk. Damien slid out with a shit eating grin on his face.
Asshole.
But a good friend for being one.
Lia played with her spoon tapping it on the table before looking up at me. A smile played on her lips and I matched hers with one of my own. God, I could get lost in her eyes. As it were, I wanted to get naked with her and pretend I didn’t have to go to work and be responsible. She made me want to rekindle the reckless part of my soul I had tamped down a good decade earlier.
She spoke, “So, ice skating, huh?”
“Yes. Do you skate?” The last time I skated, I fell and spent more time trying to not bruise my ass more than necessary.
“A little,” she curled her hair behind the shell of her ear and I had this feeling I was about to get schooled on Saturday by an ice princess. The image suited me fine if she planned on wearing something tight and short to spin circles around me. It was one winter sport I didn’t mind being a spectator for. I’d hand her my man card with no reservations if it meant getting my hands on her ass and pulling her tight against me as we slid over the ice.
“Well, if you don’t, they have a nice booth where we can have hot chocolate and hang out under these stand up heaters.” I rubbed my hands together warming them up before taking hers in mind forcing her to let go of the spoon she had been tapping. She squeezed my hands letting go leaving me hanging yet again. What was with this girl? I couldn’t get enough of her and I couldn’t let her go.
She smiled, mischief filling her eyes and hands propped under her chin coyly. “It sounds like fun.” She gave me a casual shrug.
Yeah, I was definitely screwed like Kerrigan out of Olympic gold, but crying why wasn’t going to change anything about it.
Time to man up, Mr. Jones.
15
Lia
“How could you keep this from me?” Whit navigated his jeep palming his chest trying to look insulted while covered in holey mittens that had to be older than me. His aggrieved expression didn’t match the bright blue and yellow yarn popped against his woolen coat and the matching scarf that had this Harry Potter feel to it. On the drive over to the rink in Kingston, he told me they were one of the last things his grandmother knitted for him. I thought it was adorable he kept them to wear.
“I didn’t keep anything from you.” I sighed watching out the window as we pulled into the ice rinks’ nearly full parking lot. It looked to be a busy day. I didn’t recognize any of the cars and hoped I could escape being immersed in Whit’s world with his funny friends and not have to worry about my world colliding with his.
I felt like an outlier everywhere I went. Too young to be with Whit at times and too old souled to be with my own contemporaries who didn’t understand there was more to life than fucking up college and making bad decisions, and this was despite my undeclared major. I wished I could figure me out, but that hadn’t happened yet, might not for a long time still. And yet here I was with this funny, sexy man who for some reason was still interested in me.
I was bound to mess this up.
“Next you’ll tell me you’ve got six toes hidden in those boots of yours.” He made it sound like being a Hemingway cat was a crime and I laughed. Nope, the only crime going on here was possibly his fashion sense and I was keeping my lips sealed shut on that.
“No six toes, besides you’ve already seen me naked.” I reminded him drolly.
Whit muttered, “I better double check your toes later.” He shrugged getting out of the jeep walking inside with me. The shrug earned him a pop in the shoulder and he hugged me tight against him. It felt good to be wanted.
We stared up at the ice rink’s simple entrance and I wondered how many kids came through here with dreams of the Olympics or ice hockey. It had never been my dream, merely something to do that I was okay at, but didn’t have the right passion for to continue if it meant bankrupting my parents no matter how much my mom wanted to push me toward something she could brag about.
Lost in my head, we walked inside and I noted all the glass cases of trophies. Dancing girls on ice skates and local hockey leagues with jerseys draped over smaller versions of their own Stanley Cup rivals. One more thing I never accomplished reminding me how lackluster my life had been thus far. He must have sensed my reticence because Whit’s hands rested on my shoulders massaging the old thoughts away with warm ones about him and the promise of hot chocolate later.
He kissed the top of my head sounding accusatory, “You’ve skated more than a few times at Rockefeller Center.”
The air between us chilled cooler than the indoor rink. I eyed the kids and adults making turns and small jumps on the ice with amateur skill with excitement that rivaled professionals. “Maybe.”
Standing toe to toe inside the rink, I rested my gloved hand over his and winked. “You never asked how much ice skating I did.” I didn’t make it a secret, but I wore my old skates that still fit and a flirty skirt over my leggings. His hands rested on my hips for a moment so he could look his fill at my body.
“A few times, huh?” He grumbled.
Kids on hockey skates zipped by us and the breeze that followed nipped cold air on my cheeks making me shudder. His forehead wrinkled and I wanted to reach up on my toes and kiss it away. I’d never seen someone look so pained over…ice skating.
He took my hand guiding us to follow the kids toward the opposite end of the rink. Our feet slid over ice that had been grooved with surface cuts from the numerous blades that came before us.
“Were you ever going to tell me that you took lessons for years.”
I shrugged as I let go of his hand to push my legs under me giving me the momentum to turn into a gentle spin crossing my legs to skate backward with skills I hadn’t used in years. Whit followed, his arms out as if he were bracing for a fall. It was cute to see him less than average at something I actually excelled at. It felt like the world was tilting a bit, recalibrating us to a more stable equilibrium I could deal with.
“Show off,” he called out laughing.
I slowed my rotation enough to execute a simple jump and explained, “I didn’t love it to keep doing it with any real commitment or seriousness.”
His eyes rolled smirking like he didn’t believe me as the junior hockey team zipped between us.
I kept skating putting my arms out and one leg up to put it down into a quick tight spin that left me breathless from the effort. “It was fun while it lasted and gave my mother bragging rights at book club.” Come to think of it, I didn’t stick with much of anything for too long. I’d given up the ice skating when my coach asked my parents about practicing before school in the early mornings and going out to competitions. My mother had been ecstatic. My dad look panicked like the cost might bankrupt us. I didn’t want the pressure or the spotlight. Frankly, I had an aversion to anything before 5am in the morning.
“Well, you skate beautifully.” Whit shuffled on his skates to grip me by the waist holding me against him. He leaned down, warm breath heating up my neck to say, “I’ll have to find a way to up my game.”
His cheeky expression and desire to compete made me giddy. I liked this carefree Whit. He freed himself from the hang ups we were so determined to ignore and it gave us the breathing space to just be. I wanted more of that breathing space no matter how greedy it seemed. I craved it like I craved his kisses, chocolate, and sunny afternoons.
“Hmm, you could, or you could get me some hot chocolate.” I shivered. He rubbed up and down my arms vigorously while we stood there. “I forgot how cold ice skating can be from the inside out.”
“I can thi
nk of other ways to warm you up.” He hugged me on the ice and we skated to the boards hand in hand, his holey mittens swallowing my black cotton gloves.
“Children are present.” I chuckled pushing him off me and skating away to swish over the ice before doubling back to him.
“Paybacks, Amelia.” He slipped through the exit off the ice letting his hand linger on my backside sliding down to cup my butt for a millisecond. Not enough PDA to get caught, but enough to tease me into wanting to follow him. He put on his skate guards and wobbled away.
“Whip cream.” I skated backward waiting for him to turn. His eyes carried that hooded look and I winked again. I chased my demand with a coy follow up twisting a lock of my hair while biting my bottom lip. “Please.”
His laugh sounded like a bark and he walked away catching up with Hunter to stand in line. I’ll admit I admired his backside walking up to the concessions stand for a full minute blocking out the cold, the lights, and the sounds of ice swishing with people conversing around me. My eyes caught a glimpse of Kristen making figure eights around the rink. Kristen and Damien were already out on the ice bickering over who had better form as he chased her rather capable on his hockey skates.
I felt the vibrations of two bodies hitting the wall of the rink before I heard them speak. “Is that your big brother standing in line or are you seriously here by yourself?” Mateo snapped.
“Dude, he’s like her sugar daddy now. Have you been a bad girl, Lia?” Connor snorted slapping his thigh. I hope he choked on his own tongue.
Over my shoulder, Mateo and Connor snickered. Whit was out of sight with Hunter and I was alone here on the ice. Kristen and Damien were busy. I doubted they could see me with these two Neanderthals standing in the way. It rankled how they thought teasing me about Whit was going to change my mind about him. Their buddy wasn’t interested in me so why did they care?
I scanned the crowd for a sign of Ryder before adding a snarky comment of my own. "Guess your guard dog let you out for a play date?” Wherever these two went it typically meant they were following their ringleader trailing behind like lost puppies. I made it a point to stop hanging out with their little crew when Whit came back to me. It wasn’t worth the headache of a jealous boyfriend and friends who really weren’t friends no matter how hard I tried. I accepted that I didn’t fit in with this crowd and it wasn’t healthy for me to continue to lose sleep over something like people who wouldn’t remember to call me a week after graduation anyway. They weren’t my people.
“Oh come on Amelia-Bedelia.” The nickname made me cringe.
Connor whined like an over grown toddler begging his babysitter to stay up past his bedtime and it grated on my patience, or what had been left of since the camping trip anyway.
“Do you even–you know what, never mind.” I waved them off not interested in explaining the premise of a children’s story to them.
“We miss hanging out.” Mateo stated like I had suddenly gone missing or dropped off the face of the planet. I had been here the entire time as an outsider only good for when one of them needed something. I used these past few weeks stepping back to evaluate some hard truths in my life, something no amount of philosophy seminars could give truth bombs for.
“I haven’t gone anywhere. My address is the same. I’m just busy.” Shrugging I deflected giving them an explanation they didn’t deserve.
A third pair of skates sidled up next to me with a cold breeze and a slush of ice that splattered my black leggings.
“Hey, introduce us to your friends?” Relief filled me when I recognized that one of Whit’s friends had come to rescue me.
Kristen had a take no shit or prisoners attitude which put the dumb and dumber twins in check. It might also have been her tall figure, long hair, and sultry looks because both seemed to be caught ogling her outfit. It was obvious they had the hots for her, but Kristen Calloway was about to shut them down.
Nodding I said, “Sure. Kristen meet Mateo and Connor. They play on the football team at school with Ryder.” Kristen looked them up and down leaning back against the rink wall. From a distance beyond, I watched Damien frown and skate over to us with increasing speed. We probably had seconds before he came crashing over caveman style on Kristen. It was weird that out of the group, Damien was the least athletic overall lumbering on his hockey skates.
“Never seen you on campus.” Connor stated. I counted the seconds down, the closer Damien got the more unsteady his legs looked.
“Probably because I graduated college already.” She indicated with a fake smile. “We better get going Lia. The boys were on hot chocolate duty, and I only put out for whipped cream on top.” She skated away, her cropped pea coat jacket lifting over her leggings as she swished away making a clean jump that indicated she’d done this before.
I watched the guys watch her sashay away on sure footed blades across the ice to catch up to Damien. Poor guy looked ready to take on the twins despite his legs doing some kind of frog split while he tried desperately to stay upright. I didn’t blame Kristen for wanting to control the situation. She skated backwards giving me a wink tugging Damien along to safety. I knew it was better to disengage these two and get outta dodge as quickly as possible.
“She’s cool.” Connor’s eyes trailed after her hiding nothing. I was surprised he hadn’t rented a third skate for the boner protruding from his jeans shamelessly. What had I ever seen in any of these guys was beyond me.
I snapped my fingers.
“Hello, you met her for like five seconds.” I drawled annoyed I was even forced to engage in this conversation.
“And she stole my heart.” He quipped dramatically placing his hand over his chest. I scanned for Whit unable to find him in the crowd beyond the rink.
“Did you hear me, I’m smitten.” The dummy sighed falling back against the rink sideboard.
I reached out to slap his chest.
“This is exactly like the time you ate an entire case of Cheetos, claiming you were smitten with them too.” He scowled when I reminded him. Both Connor and Mateo had bought out the supermarket’s supply, smoked pot and gorged themselves on every bag they could find in a fifty mile radius. I wasn’t sure if that was intense for processed cheese products or stupidity on their part. They were lucky the football coach wasn’t drug testing them regularly.
“Always the party pooper, Amelia.”
“Well I better go if I’m such a killjoy. Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation you know.” I made air quotes and brushed past them no longer interested if Ryder had come today or merely dropped their leashes for someone else to pick up.
I skated hard getting to the opposite end of the ring and stomped my feet on the carpet looking for my blade covers.
“Hey girl.” Strong arms wrapped around my upper biceps holding me still. Whit’s eyes met mine scanning my face before narrowing. “What’s wrong?”
My cheeks responded for me blushing pink that was unrelated to the cold when he asked. I steamed with anger at myself for letting them get to me out on the ice and for not speaking up for myself sooner. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
I flicked a glance back to where they had been. Whit looked past me to see Mateo and Connor fooling around on the ice skating in sloppy circles around a group of girls I didn’t know.
“Sure about that?” He pulled me in kissing my forehead while his gaze remained focused on them. A sweet protective gesture as he left his arm resting around my shoulders. His natural scent, reminded me of outdoor air, firewood, and spices that stayed in your nose too long with a tingle. It was months yet before Christmas, but that was Whit.
My eyes darted upward to Whit’s face. I drowned in his strong chin and angled cheekbones that boasted a clean shaven face in a comforting warm bath kind of way with lit candles and music that didn’t sound like disco-pop from my frat house roaming days. Those brief two weeks of campus orientation were best forgotten. Whit was like coming home.
He doesn’t seem satisfied
with my silence and squeezed me into his side until I shared something he could live with. “I’ll let you know if some ass-kickery is needed, but not today.”
He glanced back one last time before grunting, “Fair enough.” He guided me along the walkway, my feet wobbling on the skates now that I was no longer on the ice until we joined our group meeting up on the bleachers.
Kristen and Damien were behind us still on the ice. Her arms were outstretched like Damien was a little kid and she guided him along keeping him upright. I gave her props because it took skill making sure Damien didn’t kill anyone on the way down in a crash of blades and glory.
“Do you think they have an orange traffic kiddie cone we can give him to push around?” Taylor Jane joked. This was the first time I’d gotten to meet Hunter’s sweetheart and she was everything nice you could imagine. Whit told me they recently rekindled their relationship and were flipping a house project.
“He’d have to catch one of the kids to get one. Nah. We’re better off watching the destruction from here.” Whit snickered and took out his phone to take a few unsolicited pictures.
“What are you doing with that?” I leaned into him to see the pictorial evidence displayed in both panoramic and video. Poor Damien had a look of horror on his face while his legs simply skidded out from under him in a blur that lasted at least ten yards before hitting the boards.
“Documenting.”
“Uh huh.” I didn’t believing a word of it.
“Send one to me.” Hunter added passing around the box of greasy food from the concession stand they came back with.
“Group text?” Grabbing a cheese fry, Whit tinkered with his phone typing away.
Hunter nodded between bites of a hot dog and chili. “Make sure Chase and Evan are on it.”
Whit snickered a little too proud of himself. “Especially Evan.”
“Video?” Hunter asked.
“Oh boy, it’s a doozy. He practically drags his leg like he’s been mortally wounded.” Whit finished with his phone putting it away in his pocket.
