Fresh Ice

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Fresh Ice Page 20

by Sarah J. Bradley


  “How do you know?”

  “Her hair was purple, and she was reciting something that sounded like Shakespeare. Then we’ll go back to your place. You can take a long hot shower while I return some emails and then I’ll rub you down with a very strong ointment.”

  Getting a rub down from Izzy sounds nice.

  She hopped out of the car, her boundless energy surprising him again. Quinn eased the seat back and closed his eyes. I’ll just rest while she’s getting the coffee. I’ll picture myself skating without feeling all sorts of old man pain. It’ll be like practice.

  A moment later Izzy said, “We’re here. We’re at your place.”

  Quinn opened his eyes. “What?”

  “We’re at your place. You fell asleep.”

  Quinn wrinkled his nose. “What on earth is that vile smell?”

  Izzy held up a jar. “It’s the ointment. I can’t believe Col still had some.”

  “Clearly, he’s a witch doctor, to have something that foul lying around. You’re not rubbing that on my skin, are you?”

  She got out of the car, laughing out loud. “Only if you want to feel better. Trust me. I used this all the time when I was competing.”

  “Right, but we aren’t competing. And I’m fine. Argh!” Quinn tried to straighten up, and failed. “Okay, we’ll take the stairs to the first floor and get the elevator there.”

  “You’re going to do stairs?”

  “I’m not walking past my doorman looking like this and smelling like that.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  It took them several minutes to get to the first floor. “I have a whole new respect for figure skaters,” Quinn leaned against the elevator wall. “How is it you’re not sore?”

  Izzy grinned. “Well, I’m a little younger than you are.” She giggled.

  “Oh thanks for that.”

  “Plus, I’m not the one doing the lifting. How many times did we do that throw triple loop? Ten, twelve?”

  “Ten or twelve hundred.”

  “So you’re hoisting me and tossing me every time. All I have to do is fly.”

  “Yeah, sure, but you have to land.”

  The elevator doors opened. “Sure, and my knees hurt a bit.”

  “A bit? Hey, all I want to do is die.”

  Quinn started to collapse on the couch, but Izzy shoved him toward the bedroom. “Hot shower. Long hot shower. I’ll make dinner.”

  “I think I have a bottle of ketchup and some mushrooms in the fridge.”

  Izzy glanced in the refrigerator. “Okay, I’ll be calling for dinner. Chinese?”

  He realized he was very hungry. “One of everything from Feng’s.”

  “I’m game if you are.” Izzy pulled a menu off the corkboard on the wall and started dialing. “You, shower.”

  She’s worse than a trainer. Quinn limped into the bathroom. He studied himself in the mirror. And damn if it isn’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  ***

  Izzy ordered a ridiculous amount of food from Feng’s. At least the leftovers will make his fridge look like someone actually lives in this place.

  She kicked off her shoes and settled on the couch. Staring out the patio window, she realized she missed Coach. Collier was good at assessing their progress, but she missed Coach.

  I wonder what he’d think of Quinn.

  She pulled out her phone and without thinking, she dialed Collier’s number.

  “Hello?” Collier’s voice was warm, fuzzy.

  “Col, did I wake you?”

  “Don’t worry. What’s up?”

  I’m an idiot. Waking up Collier isn’t going to bring Coach back.

  “Izzy? Are you there? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just thinking about Coach, you know?” She closed her eyes trying to hold back the sudden spring of tears. “We had a long practice today, and I started thinking about him.”

  Collier was quiet for a beat. “I know. I miss him, too. Sometimes I’ll do something and I’ll hear him yelling, ‘For the love of all that’s holy! Stop and do it the right way!’ I used to hate it, now I wish I could hear him yell one more time.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking, and then I dialed you.”

  “Hey, I’m always happy to take a call from you.”

  Izzy glanced at her watch. “Geez, it’s late. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Your voice is a breath of fresh air. I can’t believe the guys convinced me to play a Renaissance restaurant in New York. Worse than playing in bars, if you can believe it. But what about you. Are you really okay? How was practice?”

  Izzy swallowed back the tremor in her voice. “I’m great, and practice was fine. Just a little nostalgic tonight, you know?”

  “Hey, I’ll be back in Nashville in a few days. We’ll go down to Second Chance’s and get nostalgic all over the place. It’ll be a mess.”

  Izzy smiled. “I can’t wait.”

  “Just the two of us, though, right?”

  In the short weeks since they’d been working together, it was clear Collier and Quinn saw each other as competition. Most of the off color banter fired between the two men either annoyed Izzy or made her laugh. Certain that Collier was just trying to get a rise out of her, she gave their bickering little thought. Her brain was too busy sorting out her feelings for Quinn.

  “Izzy?”

  “Sure Col. Just the two of us.”

  “Won’t Puckman be jealous?”

  “No, because he won’t be in town. And there’s nothing to be jealous about.”

  “Boy do you know how to crush a guy’s feelings in the middle of the night.”

  Izzy managed a weak smile. “Well, I try. Go back to sleep.”

  “You’re not letting him work you too hard, right?”

  “I’m the one working Quinn too hard.”

  “Don’t know that I love the sound of that.”

  With a bittersweet smile, she ended the phone call. Memories of Coach rushed back. Unable to stop the spill of tears, she opened the patio door and stepped into the brisk Nashville air. Suddenly everything hurts. My legs, my head, and my heart, the spot where Coach should be it, all hurts.

  ***

  Compared to the hot steam in the bathroom, the apartment was cold. Quinn shivered as he padded out to the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat shorts. “Hey, why is it freezing…Izzy?”

  She stood out on the balcony, so still, he wasn’t certain she heard him. As he approached, he saw her wipe her eyes.

  She’s crying? He reached a hand to her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Me?” She turned to face him, the traces of her tears visible. “I’m great.” She attempted a smile, and failed, her face broke from the strain, and she wept.

  “Hey, hey, come here, you’re freezing.” He wrapped her in the warmest embrace he could muster, pulled her back into the apartment, and closed the door. “Come on. Let me get you warmed up.” He turned on the fireplace and draped a quilt around her.

  The door buzzer sounded.

  “That’ll be the food.” She couldn’t hide the quaver in her voice.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll get the door. I’ll be back in one second.” He grabbed his wallet off the table and handed his doorman a wad of bills. I’m not counting out change when Izzy’s crying on my couch. He set the two huge bags of food on the table.

  “Okay, so we’ll be doing a little food therapy later.” He sat down and snuggled her into the crook of his arm. “So what’s up? You were all chatter and smiles before I took a shower. If this is what good personal hygiene does, count me out.”

  She sniffled, but laughed softly. “I’m sorry. It’s so stupid.”

  “What’s so stupid?”

  “I…I called Collier.”

  Quinn frowned. Not great for the ego. “I thought he was in New York.”

  “He is. But I suddenly missed Coach so much and Col’s my closest link.”

  “I
get it. I think.”

  Izzy wiped her eyes. “Coach would like you a lot.”

  “Which is funny, because his son doesn’t.”

  “No, but Coach would. He liked male skaters to be tall, and strong.”

  “Oh. So this has nothing to do with my winning personality.”

  Izzy’s smile was sincere. “He’d love how tall you are. He’d hate that you skate on hockey skates, but I think he’d get over it because you’re careful not to drop me or throw me too hard. He was big into making sure I didn’t get hurt.”

  “So why the tears?”

  Izzy cuddled closer under his arm. “I’ve been so happy, not just with the skating, but working on this whole thing. I feel like I have a purpose.” She paused and sniffled. “I wish Coach was here to see it. He’d be proud, like a father.”

  Her voice was so thin, so lost, Quinn ached to wrap her in his arms and shield her from the world. “You haven’t talked about your parents since you went to see them.”

  “They aren’t family, if they ever were. Coach was my family. I left him, just like I left everyone. I ran away. Now I can’t talk to him. And I really wish I could right now.”

  Quinn cradled her. “Anything I can help with?” Something clicked in Quinn’s brain. “Are you feeling, you know, overwhelmed? I know you’re doing a lot on the administrative end of things, is it too much?”

  “No-not-not at all.” The catch in her voice and renewed tears belied her words.

  “You know, you took on a ton of stuff with this. Plus you’re still working, and you had to change your shift. It’s a lot of adjustments.”

  “No…Quinn…I used to do stuff like this all the time, you know, when Jenna was little. I volunteered at her school.”

  Her tears were warm on his bare shoulder. “So what is it?” He kissed the top of her head, again at a loss for words.

  “It’s so stupid…” she huddled tighter and sobbed in earnest.

  What do I do? A flash of panic shuddered through Quinn. “Whatever it is, whatever’s bothering you, I promise I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

  “My ankles hurt so much!”

  Quinn wasn’t sure what he felt more: surprise or triumph. “Your ankles hurt?”

  She nodded, her hair silky on his skin. “Three workouts with you and my ankles are on fire. I’m a runner. My legs should not be in pain after a couple hours on the ice.”

  “Pain in the legs, we can solve that!” Quinn stood and reached for the jar of ointment. “We have this….this stuff.” He wrinkled his nose. “And, if that doesn’t work, I’m sure we can find other ways of easing pain.” He bestowed his most wicked grin on her. “Which would you like first? Foul or fun?”

  The grin had the desired effect. She laughed and threw a pillow at him. “Foul. But just the ankles.”

  “Just the ankles?”

  She shook her head. “No…my knees…and my legs…and everything!” She hugged her legs to her and howled.

  “Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me that all that bouncing around after skating today, running in for coffee, all that chatter…that was a cover?”

  “I forgot to get the coffee. I begged Cat for a fist full of aspirin.” She chuckled, a throaty sound that stirred something deep in Quinn. “I didn’t want to seem weak.”

  “Weak?” The one word brought him to his knees. “Izzy…” he knelt next to her and stroked her hair, “you are the strongest woman I have ever known.”

  “You’re just saying that because you want me to stop crying on your couch.”

  “I’m saying that,” he murmured against the back of her neck, “because it’s the one thing I know to be true.” He wrapped his arms around her, aching to meld with her.

  His cell buzzed I don’t care who that is; I’m not picking that up.

  The buzzing stopped and Quinn allowed himself to inhale Izzy again.

  The elevator door buzzed.

  “What the hell?” Quinn glanced at the display on his phone. Serena!

  “Are you expecting someone?”

  No. And Serena’s definitely not expecting anyone either. “That’s probably Benny with some notes or something. Tell you what, why don’t you go and get in the shower, I’ll deal with him, and then we’ll test this ointment and see if this really works.”

  “Okay.” She stood and moved stiffly to the bedroom. Quinn grabbed and t-shirt from his bed and threw it on as the elevator doors opened.

  “Hello, Serena.” He leaned against the kitchen counter, praying he looked casual.

  “Quinn.”

  “You’re back early.”

  “St. Maarten was a bore. I should know better than to try and take an extended vacation.” Serena waved a dismissive hand. “What the blazes is that stench?”

  Quinn sniffed, as if smelling something for the first time. “Oh, well, I’ve got dinner here, and I just finished working out.” Chinese food and body stink…yeah, it’s close to whatever is in that jar.

  “Who’s in the shower?”

  Quinn blinked back the panic. “Shower?”

  “Your shower is running, Quinn.” Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t have a woman up here, do you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Serena. You know I’ve never let a woman shower in my place. I was just about to get in.” Please don’t be in a showering mood. “So vacation in the island was boring, huh?”

  “Awful. No one to rub sun tan lotion on me. Next time, you’re coming with me.”

  “Then don’t schedule your vacation during hockey season.”

  Serena rolled her eyes. “What does that leave me, three weeks a year? Anyway, I was thinking I’d have dinner with you tonight.”

  Oh hell no.

  “But I’m not going anywhere with you smelling like that, and I don’t have the time to wait for you to shower.”

  There is a God and He likes me just a tiny bit.

  “I’m catching a flight to New York in a few hours. I feel the need to do some real shopping. What’s that?”

  “What’s what?”

  Serena locked in on Izzy’s skate bag. “What is that? Are those figure skates?”

  Shit. “Those? Oh some girl left those at the rink after that Make-a-Wish thing. I picked them up from the arena. She’s supposed to pick them up later at the station. In fact, Benny’s coming over in a bit to get them.”

  “Ew, Benny. Well, that would explain the ridiculous amount of food you have here.” Serena made a face. “It’s a good thing I’m leaving. You’re a complete pig when I’m not around. I’ll be back next Friday.”

  “Friday. Got it.”

  “And Quinn?”

  “Yeah?”

  Serena waved a hand over her nose. “Do something about that smell. I’m not coming back here until you swear to me it’s gone.”

  I’ll keep that in mind.

  With one more disdainful glance Serena got into the elevator. Quinn exhaled, his shoulders sagging. He stared at the bags of take out on the table. Not really in the mood for Chinese anymore. He put the containers in the fridge and dialed the pizza place down the street and ordered a mushroom and sausage.

  I should probably make sure she’s okay with that. Without thinking twice, Quinn tapped at the bathroom door and opened it. “Izzy?”

  Thick steam blurred his vision. Over the hiss of water, she responded. “Yeah?”

  “I sort of changed my mind. How do you feel about pizza?” He tried very hard to keep his mental image of her clothed.

  “Can we get sausage and mushroom?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, is that a problem?”

  Stop trying to see through the steam. “It’s only my favorite.”

  “Okay, great. I’ll be out in a bit. This shower is amazing!”

  Yeah, compared to yours, mine is a modern marvel. “Take your time.”

  Reluctantly, he closed the door and finished placing his pizza order. His bedroom seemed chilly after being in the bathroom, so he turned on the fir
eplace and the television and stretched out on the bed.

  Ten minutes later, she emerged, drowning in a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts.

  “You look like you feel better.”

  Her laughter was light and musical again. “Yeah, nothing cures a major case of the blues than a super hot shower. I do have to say, though, if I’m going to make a habit of changing clothes here…”

  “I sort of hope you might.” Was that too bold? That was too bold for someone trying to take it slow. Yep, I’m not good at taking anything slow.

  Izzy blushed, and covered her face quickly under the guise of toweling off her hair. “Anyway, I have to start just keeping a change of clothes with me. Seriously, this is the second time now I feel like some sort of tiny little cartoon character in a normal person’s clothing.” She reached for her comb.

  “Here, let me do that.” Quinn took the brush from her. “Sit right here in front of me.” He combed through her wet hair with long, gentle strokes.

  “I never pictured you being good at something like this.”

  Quinn paused. “My sister had long hair, and hated the way my mom yanked at it when it was wet. I guess I felt sorry for her, so I brushed her hair out once. After that, she begged me to do it every time.” He stared at the strand in his hands. “I did that until I went away to school. Funny, I haven’t thought about that in ages.”

  The elevator buzzed. Quinn hopped up. “Stay right there. I’ll get the pizza. And something for your legs that isn’t quite so odiferous.”

  Izzy’s laughter followed him all the way to the elevator. Again he handed the doorman a wad of bills. I’m not counting change when I’ve got Izzy laughing in my bed.

  He set the pizza on the bed. “Now, tell me what I can get you to help with the leg pain, because I believe that we both know, as enticing as a mutual rub down sounds, we’re not touching each other with that ointment.”

  Izzy opened the pizza box. “Fair enough. Coach had another ‘cure’ but only for the very worst pains.” She picked up a slice and took a bite.

  “As long as it doesn’t involve anything vile smelling, I’m intrigued.”

  “Well, he’d pour half a glass of red wine, and then he’d put two ice cubes in it. ‘Drink this, Bella,’ he’d say. ‘Drink but tell no one, for telling will cut the power of the cure in half.’ He liked to pretend he was from some foreign country, he’d use this fake accent all the time.”

 

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