by Denise Bower
“There’s something about him that seems familiar.”
Sawyer snorted into the phone. “Vika….”
“Do I know him?” I asked again, crossing my fingers that he would tell me no.
“Um, yes,” he said. “He went by a different last name.”
“And that was?”
He paused dramatically. “Carter Gibson.”
I choked as my throat squeezed shut and robbed me of air. I almost dropped my phone in the toilet.
“Do you remember now?” Sawyer asked.
My mind flickered backward, sending me to a weekend years ago in Detroit. I’d been hanging out with Sawyer at his practice session when this super cute, cocky guy jumped on the ice and let loose a series of triple jumps that had everyone gawking. When he skated by me and winked, my knees almost gave out. Sawyer had been distraught and angry with me for ignoring him, but I’d been thirteen years old, and with one look, the newest bad boy of figure skating had awakened my hormones. Viktor had been so jealous he couldn’t see straight when he caught me and—”
“Oh my,” I gasped.
Sawyer cackled loudly. “He was your first kiss.”
“Shut up. Oh my god.” I scrunched my eyes closed. “Holy shit, I wonder if he remembers me.”
Dammit, I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. If the guys on the team got a hold of this juicy fact, I’d never hear the end of it. And Carter, being how he was, would probably spin it until people believed I’d lost my virginity to him. The only thing we’d shared had been a kiss and some innocent groping.
Good grief, I was getting hot remembering how his touch had burned a trail down the open back of my skating outfit.
“Do you want him to remember?” Sawyer asked.
“No,” I said. “Quit talking.”
He chuckled again. “Oh, doll, your life is better than those trashy novels I regularly read.”
“We shall never speak of this again,” I whispered and hung up on him.
Maybe I could take Sawyer’s place at the skating show he left. Choreographing wouldn’t be such a bad job, and to earn extra money, I could probably skate in the show too.
I sat on the counter until my butt fell asleep and my stomach demanded food. Reluctantly I gathered my things and opened the door. Shelby and Sawyer were sitting in the hall, poking at their phones and discussing music.
“I’m ready to go home,” I announced.
I expected Sawyer to say something about Carter, but Shelby took over the conversation, showing Sawyer what music Carter had suggested and sharing how excited she was to try something new.
I barely listened, confident Sawyer would keep her occupied. I schooled my face and rubbed my cheeks. I didn’t really want them to know I’d been thinking about a thirteen-year-old girl and a fifteen-year-old boy sharing a kiss in the dressing room of a chilly arena.
It wasn’t until we’d said goodbye to Shelby, and Sawyer had fixed us both a cup of tea, that Carter entered into our conversation.
“You’ve been thinking about him, haven’t you?” Sawyer said.
I sighed. “It was such a long time ago, and I still remember that moment.”
“It was your first kiss. That’s a big thing.”
“And it was good,” I said.
“I wonder what he kisses like now if he was that good at fifteen.”
“Ugh. The women on the internet seem to think he’s some sort of God.”
“He does have the body of an Adonis.”
“I came here to get away from the figure skating world, but it seems to be invading my space.”
“Does me starting an academy here bother you?” he asked.
“No, I want you to go after your dreams.” I scooted closer, letting him slide his arm around my shoulders. “I love having you here.”
“Well that’s good because figure skating is about to overrun your world. I told management you were going to be involved.”
“Oh. Am I?”
“I want you to coach a little. Even if it’s just Shelby. She needs you.”
“Like I told Shelby, the hockey team comes first.”
“Understood. But could you please put together some workouts for the skaters when they begin to arrive?”
“I’m not helping until I get rid of Carter, but yes, I will work with the kids.”
“This is going to be awesome,” Sawyer said in a dreamy voice. “So much better than that stupid skating circus.”
Chapter 9
I woke up with a jolt in the middle of the night, almost falling off the couch. At least Sawyer had the decency to cover me with a blanket. I didn’t remember falling asleep. We’d spent the evening watching TV and discussing his academy. He’d thrown in a question about Carter every so often, which would cause me to roll my eyes and change the subject back to his academy. When he’d switched on some news show, I’d closed my eyes.
I glanced at my phone to check the time and figured I’d only been asleep for a couple hours. I thought about going to my bed, but that would involve actually moving. Plus I didn’t want to chance accidentally waking Sawyer. He was an absolute bear if he didn’t get enough beauty sleep.
My brain conjured an image of Sawyer dressed in a bear costume with a pink frilly tutu, skating a cute routine. No wonder he wanted to start a skating academy.
I tried to go back to sleep, but my mind insisted on analyzing how things had gone spiraling out of my control. Carter was front and center.
Thinking about Carter didn’t appeal to me, so I sat up and surveyed the stacks of unpacked boxes and piles of bags scattered around the room, made worse with the addition of Sawyer’s junk. Since Shelby and I had gone shopping, I’d barely been in my apartment long enough to unpack a box.
I slid off the couch and unzipped the nearest bag, thinking it housed more clothing. Instead my figure skates tumbled out and landed in my lap. My chest constricted and my heart pounded wildly in my chest. The moment I touched them, the decision was made, and I was out the door before I could tell myself I was insane. The unpacking could wait.
The rink was quiet and dark but I knew where the lights were located, and when I switched them on, the clean sheet of ice gleamed. A few days ago, Paulie had slipped keys into my hand, telling me I could come anytime. Maybe he’d known something I didn’t realize. So here I was staring at my figure skates that I hadn’t put on since I’d quit the sport.
I dropped them in front of the bench and circled them. I felt like a wild animal making sure there was no imminent danger. I poked them with my sock-covered foot and waited. Nothing happened, so I bent over and picked up the right skate, holding it close to my face to carefully examine the boot. It was stiffer than my hockey skate, and I almost shoved it back into the bag. Instead I held my breath, sat down, and slipped my foot into the boot.
Surprisingly the ceiling didn’t collapse nor did the floor swallow me whole. I let go of a long breath, put on the other skate, and quickly laced them both. My first tentative strokes ended when I tripped over my toe pick and skidded across the ice on my stomach. I rolled over and lay on my back in the middle of the Ravens logo, staring at the giant scoreboard hanging above me.
“What am I doing?” I muttered and scrambled back to my feet. I skated to the boards and grabbed my bag, searching for some music. All I could find were old competition CDs, and I had no desire to skate to anything Viktor and I had used. And then I remembered Shelby’s disk.
I crossed my fingers, hoping she’d left it in the player. If nothing else, I could use the radio. I pushed play, and a song I’d heard a few times blared through the arena. I leaned against the boards and did a few stretches before stepping on the ice.
Skating alone was weird, but I needed to know I could stand on my own two feet without someone holding my hand.
“Have some fun,” I whispered and skated to the center of the ice to strike a pose. I let the music dictate my moves. I didn’t try anything fancy, just deep edges and good positions. As the music continued and
I became more comfortable, I added a few dance moves and allowed myself to enjoy the sensation of skating. A few times I felt myself reaching for my nonexistent partner’s hand.
“Let go,” I whispered. “Viktor’s gone, but you can still skate.”
The music changed to something more upbeat. My hips swayed, and for the first time in months, it felt good to be on the ice.
I don’t know how long I skated but it was close to three in the morning when I snuck back into my apartment. Sawyer was still sleeping, so I climbed into bed with him. He didn’t even move.
“I had a weird dream last night,” Sawyer said.
“I always have weird dreams,” I said and set a smoothie in front of him, hoping to distract him. I couldn’t tell if Sawyer knew something or if he was innocently telling me he’d had a weird dream.
“I dreamed an ice cube got in bed with me, smelling of arena ice and sweat.”
“You are weird,” I said.
He took a sip and smacked his lips. “God, I actually missed these stupid drinks of yours. All the others I tried tasted like someone snuck a handful of dead grass into them or tree bark covered in dirt. I swear one tasted like I was chewing on a thistle.”
“Maybe I should bottle these and sell them.”
“I’d buy,” Sawyer said. “But now that I’m here, I can go straight to the source.”
“That reminds me, we need to go grocery shopping, and maybe I should unpack. Shelby did a great job helping me set up some of the things I bought, but I really should hang stuff on the wall, make it more like home, and get rid of the boxes.”
Sawyer grunted at me as he pounded away on his laptop.
“Holy shit. I have to go. I’m going to be late,” I said. “There’s an extra key in that bowl. I’ll talk to you later.”
I had to speed to make it to the arena on time. The first thing I noticed when I pulled into the lot was Carter and his stupid sports car. Alex climbed out of the passenger side and shouldered a bag. It was amazing they could even fit it into the car.
As Carter headed toward the arena, a car skidded to a stop, cutting him off. A woman climbed out of the passenger seat and jogged over to him. A feat made more impressive because she was wearing heels and avoiding patches of ice. She flipped her auburn hair and fitted herself against Carter’s side. He paled and tried to peel her off, but she was insistent, blocking his efforts. It looked like the same woman who had told me they had dated. He certainly didn’t seem thrilled to see her.
“Teresa!” he shouted. He grabbed her arms and shoved her away. “You can’t keep doing this. I have no idea what’s going on inside of that head of yours, but we are not involved. Never have been. Never will be. You need to leave. I’m working.”
I thought about letting him deal with this on his own, but something about the situation didn’t seem right. Carter was uncomfortable with the woman. I glanced around the parking lot, but Alex had disappeared inside the arena, which left it up to me.
I strode toward them. “Mr. Murphy,” I said, waving. “It’s so nice of you to spend time with fans, but you need to get to the gym. The team is waiting.”
“Uh?” he grunted.
“Miss, did he give you an autograph?”
She stared at me and backed up a few steps.
“C’mon,” I said, tugging on his sleeve. “Practice waits for no one.”
“Oh, right, practice. Sorry, I have to go,” Carter said to the woman.
“Here,” I said and shoved a drink into Carter’s hand.
“You know I hate these things,” he said and ruffled my hair. My stomach somersaulted. “But I do appreciate how much you care.”
“Carter?” The woman gasped.
Her steely gaze hit me, but I rolled my eyes and sneered at her. She didn’t hold a candle to the figure skaters who had directed their disdain at me. When I didn’t react, she huffed and turned on her heel, almost tipping over. The car she had been in inched forward and stopped. Two women in equally high heels climbed out to comfort her. They glared in my direction and coaxed her into the car, finally driving away. I waved them off with a casual flip of my hand.
“That was weird,” I said.
“Fuck,” Carter whispered. “I didn’t think those crazies would follow me here.”
His statement and the worried look on his face unnerved me. He seemed genuinely shaken.
“Not a big deal,” I said.
He tried to hand the drink back to me, but I held up my hands.
“I really don’t like these drinks,” he said. “They always taste chalky.”
“You are not allowed to say that until you try mine,” I said.
He made a show of holding his nose and taking a quick sip. I thought he was going to spit it at me. Instead he took another drink.
“Hey, this crap isn’t half bad.”
I snorted and unlocked the door. “Gee, thanks for the compliment. I’ll meet you on the ice in a few.”
Hank came around the corner, and I tossed him a drink.
“Lifesaver,” he said and took a big swig. “Anything you want to tell me, Vika?”
“Nope,” I said as I opened the door to the small dressing room.
“Are you sure? Paulie was rather perplexed this morning when he showed up and noticed skate marks on his clean sheet of ice. He didn’t seem to think they were from hockey skates.”
“Was he upset?”
“Nah, he figured someone needed to blow off steam. Maybe it was Margo. I know she’s been a little stressed with everything going on. Hey, did you hear about Sawyer Jones? He showed up with a proposal to start a skating academy. It could have been him on the ice, but he doesn’t have full access to the arena yet.”
“I might’ve heard something about the academy,” I said.
“Hmmm,” Hank said, scratching his chin.
“Oh, hey,” I said. “If you have some free time today, I could show you how to sharpen figure skates. I thought you should know in case Sawyer asks you to sharpen his.”
“Sure, Vika. Come find me after you’re done with practice. Although I don’t think I have any figure skates lying around.”
“I may have brought mine in,” I said. “For demonstration purposes.”
“Okay,” he said with a sly smile. “Have a good skate, Vika.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled and slipped into the room, quietly closing the door.
Keeping secrets around this arena was impossible. Maybe learning how to drive the Zamboni should be my next goal so I wouldn’t leave any evidence. With my luck, Paulie probably monitored the fluid levels in his Zamboni.
I dressed and stretched enough to get me through the session with the guys. A few times I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t groan. My muscles ached from all the skating.
The guys were already shooting pucks and doing laps when I sat down on the bench to tighten my laces.
“Your shoulders are too high,” I shouted at Carter. “Shorten your strides and move your feet when you round the corner.”
He flipped me off but did as I instructed.
“Alex, lengthen your strides,” I shouted. Again I was flipped off.
“Jeesh, Vika,” Cam said, spraying me with snow when he stopped. “You spreading the joy this morning?”
I blew my whistle and explained what we’d be doing today. I’d tried to talk Johan out of doing this drill because it was draining. He didn’t listen to me, insisting in no uncertain terms that the players needed a hard workout since they’d neglected to play defense in the last game.
The guys groaned when I ordered them to pair up and drag each other around the rink with bands. They swore at me continuously, especially when I suggested the one being dragged add more resistance by digging his blades into the ice.
“Holy fuck! I’m done,” Cam panted.
“Warm down,” I said when everyone came to a grinding halt.
Carter remained on the ice. “I’d like to skate a little longer,” he said.
&n
bsp; “You have a game.”
“I’m not playing tonight. I’m still benched,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not a big deal. It’s nothing new.” He shrugged, and I had no idea what to say to him.
I left to go help Hank get ready for the game. In between all the game preparations, we managed to sharpen my skates.
“You catch on fast,” I said.
“Sawyer was here when you were on the ice with the team. He’s an interesting guy.”
“Interesting is an understatement.”
“I think it’s a great thing to fill up this arena,” Hank said. “Are you helping with the Academy?”
“As much as I can, but the team comes first.”
“Can you help me hang the jerseys again?” he asked.
“Sure. Hey, do you know why Carter isn’t playing? I thought the point of him coming down here was to improve his attitude and his game. Sitting out isn’t going to help.”
“Management is sending a message.”
I waited for him to elaborate but I didn’t know how to ask and he wasn’t volunteering any information.
Hanging the jerseys in the stalls was odd, especially when I noticed Alex had moved and Carter had taken his old spot. I sighed and quickly finished. I didn’t know why I felt bad for Carter. As far as I knew, he deserved this treatment.
After we’d set up the locker room, I decided to sit in the press box to watch, but that quickly changed when I ran into Carter heading upstairs. A few reporters cornered him and I waited for him to flip them off, but he had some canned answer prepared.
“I’m not ready to join the team yet,” he said. “Hopefully it will happen soon. I’ve been working hard to get better.”
I switched directions and went back to the bench. I had no desire to talk to the media.
The guys didn’t play well but eked out a lucky win. The team went out that evening for some bonding, but I waved off Cam, telling him I needed to sleep. For once, he didn’t give me any shit.
By the time I arrived at home, Sawyer was already in bed. I stared at the clock and groaned. I hadn’t planned on skating, but the yearning to be on the ice hit me hard. I napped on the couch until I was sure the arena would be deserted.