by BT Urruela
As we wait for the attendant to finish up with another customer, I turn to her. “You know, I’m a pretty damn good skater. I’ve got you.”
“Are you now?” she asks, inquisitively.
“No, I’m terrible.” I laugh. “We’ll be lucky if we make it out of this with full use of our legs.”
We grab skates and find a spot to lace them up, and I can see the nervousness growing in her features.
“You’ll be alright, you know?”
She looks up at me, mid-lace, and chuckles.
“You sure about that? I haven’t been skating since I was a kid, but I’ll never forget what it felt like to fall. That ice is unforgiving.”
I nod, tying off my laces and standing to feel the skates out.
“You’re not wrong there, but how about this. I’ll hold your hand the whole time, and if I feel you going down, I’ll make sure and fall before you do, so you have a human cushion. Deal?”
She rolls her eyes and laughs, standing as well, though she grips me for balance almost immediately as her skates attempt to fold out from under her.
“You okay, killer?” I ask with a grin. “We haven’t even made it to the ice yet.”
“I told you!” she exclaims, her eyes going wide as her legs get used to being in the skates, much like a newborn fawn attempting to walk. “I’m a natural klutz. This will not be a good look for me.”
“I gave you the option to turn back,” I remind her and she shakes her head firmly, finally steadying herself enough to stand on her own.
“No way. I don’t turn down challenges.”
“It was never a challenge,” I argue, winking. “It was supposed to be a date.”
“The moment you asked if I wanted to turn back, it became a challenge,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone before walking bow-legged toward the rink entrance.
“Wait up, Flash. I’m coming,” I call out, trailing behind her.
She abruptly stops just before the ice, turns, and backs up a few steps; the confidence on her face when she began walking away has now changed to trepidation.
“You sure you don’t want to go first?” I ask with a smile, putting my hand out toward the rink.
She shakes her head stiffly with an innocence in her expression I find impossibly adorable.
“Okay, I’ll go first.” I inch my way onto the slick surface, trying to familiarize myself on the ice again.
Once I feel comfortable enough, I put a hand out for her, and she reluctantly takes it.
“You ready?” I ask before I attempt to lead her out onto the ice. She hesitates a little before nodding.
Taking a hesitant step, she wobbles a bit before dragging the other skate on the ice behind her. She grabs for my hand almost immediately and I cup my other hand against her elbow. It’s no issue for me as I am, in fact, a good skater. That was the thing to do back in middle school and early high school with your friends, so I was on the ice every week, trying to impress the ladies with my moves. Oftentimes, over the first few years, I did anything but that, falling and sliding on the ice like a fucking disoriented penguin. I ended up pretty good over the years and I’m thankful for it as I guide Sami slowly across the ice.
“You seem to be better than advertised,” she says, her eyes focused on the ice below her feet, hands up, ready for a fall.
“Maybe, just a little,” I joke, gliding her effortlessly along the ice. The cool air whips against our faces as we pick up speed and her initial fear has lightened, at least a little, with a slight smile stretching across her face.
“A little, my butt. You’re awesome.”
“Truth be told, I did a lot of it growing up,” I admit with a smirk. She curls her lip and shoots me a judging glance.
“You little liar,” she says, her eyes dropping to the ice again as her skates begin to wobble.
“I prefer the term truth-bender, and hey, at least you know you won’t be falling today. You’re in good hands.” As if directed by the universe, by the time the words exit my mouth, my skates shoot out from below me, my arms flailing as I tumble to the ice. Sami comes crashing down on top of me, her eyes and mouth wide.
She takes a few breaths, her motionless body on top of mine, before she bursts out in laughter.
“You were saying,” she squeaks out between laughs.
“Well, fuck me running. If that wasn’t karma, I don’t know what is,” I say, laughing now too as we remain tangled on the cold ice with skaters whizzing by around us.
She attempts to get back up, but she doesn’t make it far. I tug the sleeve of her coat for her to come back, cradling her cheek with my other hand, and I pull her in, kissing her as if no one’s watching, as if we haven’t just turtled on the ice at Rockefeller in front of everyone.
I kiss her long and hard, feeling the same buzzing intensity trailing from her lips to mine as I felt the last time. Kissing to me has always been so much more than two sets of lips in motion. It’s a testament to true feelings.
Kissing is a gauge, and Sami hits red every damn time her lips meet mine.
I pull back, our hot breath tangling together as steam from our exhale, and her dazzling smile turns my insides to mush.
“Well, that was unexpected,” she says, smiling warmly.
“I wanted to the second you stood up from that bench.” I climb out from underneath her, helping her up, and she frowns.
“Why didn’t you then?” she asks, stabilizing herself on the thin blades as I cautiously guard her from another fall with my hands.
“I don’t know. Epic fail on my part, but it won’t happen again.” I guide her forward slowly once she’s settled, making sure I’ve got my legs back under me before I do. One fall is cute. Two falls is just embarrassing.
We skate for another twenty minutes or so before the both of us start getting cold. At one point, I was even able to get her going on her own, albeit, at grandma speeds. After dropping off our skates, we head toward the street to hail a cab, and she’s yet to ask me what we’re doing next. I have something in mind, but I don’t want her thinking every time we hang out I’m trying to get her to my place. I can see how that could send the wrong message. My home is my sanctuary, though, and they are the pieces of me I’d like to share with her. It’s important for me to be able to.
She must sense my hesitation, because she swats my arm and narrows her eyes on me as we come to a stop on the sidewalk just before the busy road. I let the first few vacant cabs pass as I focus my attention on her with a grin.
“Hey,” she says. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“More than you could ever know,” I respond with a chuckle, shaking my head a bit. “Um, no, nothing though. I was just thinking about what to do next.”
“Anything in mind?”
“Well…” My voice trails, my bottom lip slipping between my teeth as my eyes flit out to the passing cars.
“What?” she asks, smiling. “Tell me.”
“Well, um…I have this private garden. It’s a little barren now, but it’s so peaceful and we could just kinda, I don’t know, grab a few blankets…maybe count a few stars,” I respond, still avoiding eye contact with her and a wave of anxiety washes over me.
“Of course!” she says, drawing my eyes back to hers. “That sounds perfect.”
After a brief cab ride, we scale my brownstone steps and make our way inside, the warmth surrounding me in a pleasant embrace. I flip the lights on and motion to the back door.
“Are you ready to see this?” I ask.
“I sure am,” she responds, following me to the door.
I turn and face her, lifting my hand to a light switch as I do.
“I rarely use these, because I hardly ever have company, so I’m a little excited to show it off.” I open the door wide with my free hand and motion my head out the door. “Check it out.”
She looks at me suspiciously before taking a few steps forward into the garden. As she does, I flip the switch, and a hundred little b
ulbs crowning the top of the brick enclosure light up the garden. It’s not an abrasive light, but just enough to illuminate everything, framing the starry night sky above.
She shuffles forward slowly, her eyes to the sky and her mouth open wide.
“Oh, my God,” she murmurs. “This is beautiful.”
“You oughta see it in the spring,” I reply, coming up just behind her. She turns as I approach and I sweep her into my arms, pulling her in and kissing her hard. Our lips tangle and caress, a perfect motion that warms me against the cold night air.
Her eyes are still closed when I pull away, a smile on her face.
“You’re just full of surprise kisses tonight, aren’t you?” she asks, peeking her eyes open.
“The blame lies squarely on your shoulders.” I shrug as her focus shifts past me to the open door.
“I just came up with the best idea,” she says, giving me one last quick kiss before she escapes my arms and heads inside.
“What? Where are you going?” I ask, trailing behind her.
“You didn’t tell me there were lights back here,” she responds without turning around. She passes through the door and heads straight for the bookshelf.
“So, what does that mean?” I stop just behind her as she scans the shelved books with her pointer, one eye squinted.
“It means you’re reading to me tonight,” she says, before abruptly stopping and raising her eyebrows at me. “Don’t you have some blankets to get?”
I shake my head.
“Hey now, I said count stars. Where did this ‘reading to you’ shit come from?” I ask as she continues perusing my collection.
“Got it!” she exclaims, pulling out a book and holding it up to her chest—The Notebook. “Blankets, sir.” She motions her head toward my living room and pouts.
“I hate that you’re gonna win this,” I mutter, shuffling away toward the closet.
“You should probably get used to that,” she says with a facetious smile. “I always win.”
Opening the closet door and collecting up enough blankets to get us through a blizzard, I call out, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
I kick the door closed behind me and walk blindly to the open back door.
“Just cute, huh?” she asks, peeking around the stack of blankets and poking her tongue out at me.
I throw the blankets down, making a pallet with one in the center of the patio and tossing the other blankets to the side.
I motion my head to ground and mutter, “You don’t even want to get me started on how I see you.” Grinning, I add, “We’d be here all night.”
As I turn and head back inside, she asks, “Wasn’t that the plan anyway?”
It stops me in my tracks and sends my heart up into my throat. I hadn’t anticipated that, and though I’m more than thrilled the night will end with her in my arms, right now, my thoughts are just like an overcrowded bumper car rink.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asks, laying down on the pallet with the book and spreading the other blankets over the length of her body.
“Just happy to hear I get a full night in the presence of your company.” I smile, nodding toward the door. “Now, I gotta grab some pillows. Get comfy and I’ll be right back.”
“Already there,” she murmurs as I make my way inside.
I come back out a few minutes later with two of my finest pillows tucked under my arms, and balancing two cups of hot chocolate in each hand. She tosses the blanket aside and hops to her feet, reaching for the mugs.
“I could’ve helped you,” she scolds playfully as she grabs the mugs from me.
I shrug, tossing the pillows down on the pallet and taking my hot chocolate back from her.
“Not even a spill. I’m a pro.”
I smile, lowering myself to the blanket as she follows suit, and, of course, a little of the liquid spills over the edges of my mug and into my lap. Sami curls up in a fit of laughter.
“I’m sensing a pattern here,” she chides.
“It takes real skill to be as smooth as I am,” I joke, blowing on my hot chocolate a bit before sipping.
“Good call on the hot chocolate. And extra marshmallows? I like your style.”
“It’s the only way to do it.”
We sit bundled up in the blankets just inches apart, cradling the mugs in our hands. Her head is tilted upward as she takes in the glory of the stars overhead.
“It really is such a beautiful spot,” she mutters, her eyes scanning the sky.
“Thank you. It’s what sold the loft for me.”
“And listening to it…the sounds of New York City. From in here, it’s different somehow. It’s enchanting, for lack of a better word.”
“Right? It kind of blew me away the first time I experienced it. I never thought the city sounds could be comforting, but out here, it’s like the symphony of my escape.”
“I’d be back here all the time.”
“Summer, spring, and most of fall, you bet your ass I am. Cold ass winter months like these, I’m usually out here to smoke and that’s about it.”
“You smoke?” Her eyes dart down, and she sports a curled lip and quirked eyebrow. “How have you managed not to around me yet?”
“No, no, no, not cigarettes.” I motion toward the little patio table in between the wrought iron chairs, to the ashtray, tin of joints, and glass bowl sitting on top of it.
Her eyes trail to the table and back with intrigue. “Oh, well now. How did I not see that coming?”
“I don’t know. Author. Foodie. Long hair and bohemian-ish clothing…” I scratch my brow and make an exaggerated thinking face.
She bats a hand at my arm and smiles from behind the mug.
“You stop,” she says, her eyes roaming back to the weed paraphernalia on the table. “Soooo, would it be too much to ask for a little?”
“Wait?!” My eyes dart open, mouth gaping a bit. “Now, that I did not see coming. You smoke?”
“Well, no, not normally. But I have before,” she replies sheepishly.
“Oh God, how long’s it been?”
“College.”
“So, a few years?”
She nods.
“Shit, I don’t want to be a bad influence over here,” I say, setting my mug on the ground and tossing the blanket to the side.
“I’m the one who asked for it.” She smirks as I stand and make my way to the table. Snagging a joint from the tin, and a lighter, I walk back to the pallet and bundle back up quickly with a shiver.
“You sure about this? Won’t you get in trouble at work?” I ask, and she shakes her head slowly, her eyes locked on the joint between my fingers.
“Positive. I was just tested, which means I have at least a few months before it happens again,” she responds.
“Okay, here goes.” I stick the joint between my lips and go to light it when she lifts a hand to stop me.
“Wait, you’ll still be able to read to me, right?”
I smirk, lighting the joint and taking a deep inhale. As the smoke dances out of my mouth on the exhale, I say, “I’m a professional, my dear.”
She giggles, taking the joint from me and inspecting it before she takes a light toke. A fit of coughing follows that brings her crouched down into a ball, her hand passing the joint back off aimlessly.
“A little stiffer than you remember?” I ask, chuckling as I take it from her fingers.
She nods, bringing her head back up with watery, red eyes.
“Oh, my God, yes,” she responds, shaking her head and letting out another cough for good measure. “And that doesn’t taste like the stuff I had in college.”
I hold the joint up, eyeing it as the ember glows.
“This is the good shit, right here.”
“I can tell,” she says, letting out a heavy breath. “I feel like my head is floating already.”
“Medical grade,” I mutter, passing it back off to her and she cautiously takes it.
“What medica
l condition? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I laugh, watching as she takes tiny puffs this time, avoiding her question.
“No, I don’t get it prescribed, though I probably should. I just purchase from a caregiver who grows the medical stuff and sells some on the side.”
She lifts the joint before passing it back off, and through a smoky exhale, she says, “Well, you’ll have to thank him for me.”
She smiles as I take the last few puffs. I dab it out onto the flagstone and pick up my hot chocolate.
“Story time?” she asks, her eyes puffy and red, a shit-eating grin on her face.
“God, you’re adorable,” I say, and she hides her face in response.
“Stop! I feel like my eyes are pretty much closed.”
“They nearly are. I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have to read, huh?”
She nods her head and snuggles up under the blanket, pulling it up to her armpits. She pats the area next to her, and hands over the book.
“Don’t mind if I do.” I take one last drink before settling in next to her, pulling my own blanket over me, and snuggling my head into the pillow as I take the book from her.
Once I’m situated, Sami covers herself completely, curling up into a ball and laying her head on my chest. A surge of warmth spreads under my skin in reaction. The intoxicating blend of shampoo, body wash, and perfume permeates from her, and it makes me want to nuzzle up next to her and drift off to sleep below the stars.
Instead, I crack open the book, and start to read. Her head rises and falls with each deep breath, and her frequent sighs of contentment makes me want to continue all night.
A few chapters down, a faint snore pulls my attention to Sami. Her eyes are closed, mouth open, and there’s a wet spot on my coat where her head lays that gives me a good little chuckle. I move the hair from her face, admiring the way she looks in her slumber, completely at peace. Working her head from my chest onto the pillow, I’m surprised she doesn’t wake.
As I stand, collecting up my blanket and pillow, she still doesn’t move a muscle. After taking them inside and throwing them on the couch, I come back out and stand over her for a moment, wondering if I should try to wake her, or just go for the carry.
