by Monica James
“I hope you don’t mind?” he asks when I don’t speak, but honestly, I can’t articulate how perfect this is, how perfect he is.
“It’s perfect. Thank you for bringing me here.” His smile is all the reward I need.
When he exits the truck, I sit back and watch as he rounds the hood. Never in a million years did I ever think we’d be back here as adults on our first date. But here we are, and I can’t stop grinning like a love-struck teenager.
When he opens the door and offers me his hand, I’m certain my cheeks are going to explode from all the smiling I’m doing. I slip my palm into his and step down from the truck, almost pressing us chest to chest.
I want to say so many things, but none of that matters. We will figure this out as we go. Even though I’ve known him my entire life, this is new ground for us. “Best first date ever,” I say, leaning forward and kissing his cheek.
When I pull away, I can’t help but chuckle at the cheated look on his face.
“I can’t put out on the first date.” I open my mouth in mock horror, and he shakes his head at my playfulness.
Most would think we would want to steer clear of this place as it was here I was supposed to meet London. But coming here is exactly what we both need to exorcise the ghosts of our past. To move on, we have to confront our demons and ensure we don’t make the same mistakes twice.
We walk toward the entrance, and I smile when I see the silver glitter skate still hangs above the door. As soon as I step foot inside, I’m flooded with so many memories, and I need a moment to take it all in. The star attraction, the white roller rink, is exactly how I remember it. A cluster of disco balls hangs from the ceiling, the mirrored surfaces catching the light and sending tiny rainbows across the large room.
The number of red lockers against the far wall has doubled in size, but I suppose that’s to cater to all the cheerful skaters who are dancing to a classic disco song. It’s good to hear the music playlist hasn’t changed either.
The rental counter, which was my main go-to when I didn’t want to deal with the screaming kids at the snack bar, still has the bright pink racks filled with skates and shoes. The long wooden counter is also the same.
I do remember that counter being my savior when London re-entered my world. He had just been released from juvie, and even though he didn’t write me back and I was supposed to be mad at him, I was beyond elated to see him again.
Lincoln most definitely didn’t share that happiness. Thinking back, I guess that was a common occurrence whenever London was involved.
London snaps me from my reminiscing and leads me toward the rentals.
We pass a new addition to the rink, and that is a small arcade area. Back when I worked here, there was a claw machine and a photobooth, but they’ve knocked out a wall now to make room for this alcove of fun.
Kids sit behind the wheel as they control their animated car while others bang down on green toy alligators as they emerge from their forest habitat, catching players unaware. The mood is contagious, and I can’t help but admire the happiness this place still brings people after all this time.
When we reach the rental counter, I watch the young girl retrieve two pairs of skates. The couple in front of us are the same age London and I were when he came strolling in here, a changed man.
Unintentionally, I glide my fingers along his taut forearm. I first saw his tattoo of the piano keys and golden crown here, and I was utterly entranced by it. Now that I know the meaning behind it, I can’t help but run my thumb over the inked surface.
London’s flesh breaks out into tiny goose bumps while I suppress my whimper.
“Next.”
When the girl looks at us with a smile, I wonder what she sees. I know what it’s like looking out, but now, I’m on the other side, looking in. “Hi.” We step up to the counter while I peer at the racks nostalgically.
When she looks behind her, scrunching up her nose, I realize I’m one of those adults I used to roll my eyes at. “Back in my day…” they used to say while I nodded and pretended to listen while really, I was fantasizing about how good London looked in those tight white football pants.
Shaking my head, I clear the lust and nostalgia and rattle off my shoe size, then London does the same.
We exchange our shoes for skates, and the moment we do, I smile like a deranged lunatic. I haven’t skated in forever. Desperate to change that fact, I place my things in a locker and make a mad dash to the long bench seat. With a nostalgic sigh, I slip into my old-school skates—the best kind.
Cinderella can keep her glass slippers because this is my happily ever after.
London takes a seat beside me, grinning from ear to ear. “Go gentle on me. If I remember correctly, you were Tonya Harding in training…baton and all.”
I mock laugh, clutching my sides as his joke is simply hilarious. Not. “If only I had the opportunity to beat you with it.” I flutter my eyelashes innocently, making his lips twitch.
“Come on, killer.” Once he’s laced up, he stands slowly, arms out to the side to maintain balance.
Crossing my ankles, I lean back, watching on in utter hilarity as he wobbles. “Wow,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “Are you attempting to fly?”
He flips me off playfully, and just like that, we’re sixteen again.
The sixteen-year-old Holland takes charge, and I shoot upright, a zap of electricity pulsating through me. “See ya, baby bird.” I peck his stunned lips before taking off into a smooth glide.
It’s like a duck taking to water. Skating has always come naturally to me, which is why I applied for the job here in the first place. There is something liberating about letting go and feeling the wind whip through your hair.
Skating is all about balance, and I have no problem finding my center of gravity as I take long, graceful strides around the rink. I pass London twice before he even gets onto the floor. When he does, I feign slowing down, only to speed back up and zip past him. I turn backward to give him a winner’s wave.
His slanted grin reveals it’s game on, but he has to catch me first.
With that as my incentive, I push harder and faster, skating as quick as I can. Turning to look over my shoulder, I see that London has found his footing because he doesn’t resemble a newborn chick anymore.
He’s gaining speed, which has my adrenaline soaring through my veins.
The rink is packed full, but skater’s code dictates the faster skaters stick to the center, which is where I am currently taking off like the wind. People smile and clap as I zoom past, and when the song “I Will Survive” comes on over the speakers, I’m certain I’ll skate everywhere from now on.
I lose myself to the feeling, the song in tune with my very core because no matter what happens, I will survive this. London and I will have our issues, but what couple doesn’t? What’s important is that we are finally just that—a couple.
Turning around to skate backward, I search London out in the crowd. But just like always, I’m drawn to him. His smile is radiant, and I’m happy we can take the bitter memories associated with this place and replace them with this.
Slowing down, I wait for him to catch up as I turn and glide gracefully. The moment he’s by my side, my insides do a happy dance. He reaches for my hand. “Show-off.”
Unable to wipe my smile clean, I reply, “I think you mean winner.” To accentuate my point, I do a crossover turn. London snickers playfully.
We skate at our own leisure, hands locked. I love this openness between us. “So seeing as this is a first date, tell me everything.”
“What do you want to know?”
We’ve discussed more than enough doom and gloom, so I focus on the good. “Tell me anything. How long have you owned Absinthe of the Heart? And why did you name it that?”
His relief that I’ve steered away from the heavy subjects for now is evident. “About five years,” he reveals. “The name”—he glances over at me—“was easy. There is never enough ab
sinthe to deal with a broken heart.”
I was right but don’t gloat. “It’s clever. Congratulations. You’ve done so well. The place is amazing.” His staff…well, one staff member is questionable, but I refuse to ruin our night with thoughts of Sandy.
“Thank you. And what about you?”
“And what about me, what?” I ask, a little tongue-tied.
“You’re an attorney. I’m so proud of you, Princess. You found your calling, after all…you get paid to argue.” Just as I’m about to elbow him into the wall, his deep, husky chuckle distracts me, and he pulls me in front of him.
He places his hands low on my hips and presses up behind me. I’m absolute goo. Our bodies move in sync as we skate leisurely, enjoying the closeness of one another.
With London at my back, I feel protected by his presence. I also feel like the luckiest woman alive because London commands attention. His epic looks combined with that air of arrogance he carries on his broad shoulders has him turning heads wherever we go.
As two young women skate beside us, shyly looking at him from the corner of their eyes, they only confirm my claims. I’m not jealous in the slightest because London barely notices them checking him out. He is with me and only me, and that warms me beyond belief.
Leaning back, I know he’ll catch me, and when I turn to look at him over my shoulder, my breath hitches when I meet his stormy eyes. “Tell me about Emily.”
He presses his chest to my back so we’re basically skating as one. “It’s not weird for you?”
Gazes still locked, I shake my head. “Of course not. She is an important part of your life; therefore, she is important to me.”
He nudges into my cheek with a relieved sigh.
Focusing on skating, we glide in silence as I allow him all the time he needs to share something he holds so close to his heart. “She is my world. She’s sassy and so smart. Nothing is ever too hard for her. She tackles challenges and doesn’t let anything stand in her way.
“She’s been in and out of hospitals for more than half of her short life, yet not once has she complained. She’s an amazing young girl.
“Being a dad at eighteen wasn’t how I envisioned my life ending up, but I wouldn’t take it back. She has taught me so much. She filled a hole I thought would never heal. Belle and I…” When he pauses, I feel the tension rolling off him.
To ease that confliction, I reach over my shoulder and cradle his cheek. “It’s okay. We have to talk about her eventually.” Ideally, talking about one’s exes on a first date is usually frowned upon, but I don’t want anything to be off-limits between us.
London leans into my touch.
“Belle and I lived together for the first two years of Emily’s life.” That’s a hard pill to swallow, but at least he had a reason to do so. I lived with Lincoln because I was a fucking idiot.
“When I found out Belle was lying, I couldn’t stay with her. I didn’t love Emily any less, but Belle, I could never forgive her. She told me what she did, and although she came clean, it was too late. I never stopped loving you, Princess, because you were it for me. I think Belle believed that after a while, I’d just forget about you.”
He turns his head and kisses my open palm. “But how do you forget someone who gave you so much to remember?”
My heart flutters, and I can’t shake my smile.
“I never slept with her,” he confesses. “I couldn’t. I supported her and Emily, but we were never romantic. I was there for her as our child’s father but nothing more.”
The relief rolls over me in waves, but that doesn’t mean he’s been a saint over the past ten years. “Who is Sandy? She made it clear you were her man.” I don’t check my sarcasm at the door because I still feel the need to smack the plastic grin from her face.
“I belong to you, Princess. I always have. But I didn’t think you’d be back. I’m not proud of my past, and that past includes making some decisions I wish I could take back.”
There is no need for him to spell it out.
I can’t be mad at him or even jealous. He lived his life, and I lived mine.
“When Belle told me you were an attorney, I was so happy because it proved everything I had done was worthwhile. After so many years, you were always, always in the back of my mind, but when I searched the internet for your name and saw the news footage of you, I couldn’t believe who I saw. The spirited girl I once knew was gone.
“So when you came back here, looking the way you did and acting like a complete stranger, I was angry with myself for letting you go because it was all for nothing. I let you go to be free, but you came back here more caged than when you left.”
He’s right.
“But underneath that hardness, I saw that fire. I saw the girl I fell in love with. You were still in there; you just needed to be found.”
“Thank you for finding me,” I say, holding back my tears.
“Princess…we found each other.” He lays a gentle kiss over my pulse. “It’s finally our time, so when the time is right, I want you to get to know my daughter. I know, considering everything, it will be difficult for you, but she’s a great kid.”
“I have no doubt that she is. I can’t wait.”
I’m not sure how Belle will react to this arrangement, but I will never cross any lines. Emily is her daughter, and I will never take that away from her.
London senses my thoughts have wandered, and he tightens his hold around my waist. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but we will take it one step at a time.” He’s misinterpreted the reason I clammed up however.
I’m so excited to be involved in Emily’s life, but I just can’t shake this ominous feeling that something—or, more specifically, someone—lurks around the corner.
I feel sick to my stomach at the thought. “Let’s go sit down,” I say, deciding not to share my fears with London just yet.
He thankfully doesn’t press and leads us over to the benches.
“Do you want a drink?”
I nod, needing a moment to settle my nerves. I don’t want to ruin this with conspiracy theories. “Yes, please.”
“Strawberry milkshake?” he asks knowingly, and I gasp. This shouldn’t still surprise me, but it does.
“Yes please, and you’re getting a”—I tap my chin—“blue cherry Gatorade.” He pauses from running his fingers through his hair. “You weren’t the only one watching.”
If we weren’t both into one another, this would be incredibly creepy.
Shaking his head with a smirk, he leans down and plants a chaste kiss on my lips. I’m needy and want so much more, but seeing as we’re in the vicinity of kids, I tone down my urge to show him that my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.
When he pulls away, I pout with a deliberate sigh. “Let’s make this a real first date and go make out in the truck when we’re done.”
My cheeks heat because I want nothing more.
He laughs, thumbing my bottom lip, before skating off toward the snack bar. His firm ass and muscular legs hold my utmost attention, and I do a poor job of hiding the fact I want to climb him like a tree and make good on his word right now.
My insides heat, but I rein in my need to tackle him to the ground and undo my laces instead. Peering around, I see a couple skate by me who are similar in age to what London and I were when we were here last. He’s holding her tightly and laughing as she attempts to stop herself from face planting. I can’t help but smile.
They look so innocent and so in love. I hope their love grows into something beautiful because that’s what happened with London and me. The hardships were so worth it because look what we’ve achieved.
Lost in visions of first love, I don’t see London until he’s standing in front of me, hopping on one foot as he yanks off his skates. His hands don’t carry our drinks; instead, he’s holding our shoes. “Is everything all right?” I ask. The snack bar serves people while wearing their skates, so he wouldn’t need to take them off.
/> “Belle called.” I sit taller the moment he says her name. “Emily has come down with a high fever. When she’s like this, she sometimes seizes. She’s asking for me.” I bite my tongue to ask if it was Belle or Emily who sought him out. “I’m sorry, Princess. I have to go.”
“Don’t be,” I say, quickly taking off my skates. “I understand.”
And I do.
Emily needs him…I just hate that Belle does too. But I shove those thoughts aside and reach for my sandals.
Once London has slipped into his black boots, he hunts through his pockets for his keys. When he finds them, he waits for me to do up the buckles on my shoes. I suddenly have butter fingers and fumble.
When I finally get them done, he’s springing forward and excusing himself to pass through the thick crowd. His huge strides have me almost running to keep up. His worry is apparent because I can only imagine how upsetting it would be to have a sick child asking for you.
When I’m out the door, I see that he’s already at his idling truck, headlights shining bright. He’s waiting for me yet again.
A cab is parked by the curb, so I flag it down. London sees me and quickly jogs over. “I can take you home,” he affirms, but it’s not necessary.
“Go see Emily. I’ll be fine.”
“Princess,” he argues, shaking his head, but I won’t have him choosing because there isn’t a choice to make.
His daughter will always be number one.
“I hope she’s okay.” Standing on tippy toes, I kiss his stubbled cheek. “Thank you for an amazing night.”
He is torn, but he knows I’m right. “Let me at least pay for your cab ride home.” He digs into his back pocket for his wallet, but I stroke his arm.
“I’ve got this, London. Just go.”
His puckered lips dip into a sinking frown as he cups my cheeks. “I feel fucking terrible. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” He kisses me quickly and gestures with his chin for me to get in the cab. He makes it clear he’s not leaving until I go first.
Touched by his chivalry, I squeeze his fingers and smile. “I hope Emily is okay. I love you.”
