This situation is so rife with irony, I’m almost choking on it. Instead of playing Division I hockey, I’m with a guy who doesn’t even think I can skate.
Whoever said irony was a bitch wasn’t joking.
Seriously, how on earth had I fallen so far in life? Feeling irritated with myself for dwelling on the past, I try shaking the thoughts away.
Standing up, my mind is suddenly flooded with so many memories that I almost stagger under the heavy weight of them. Instead of letting them suck me under like they seem to want, I do the only thing I can and push them aside as Cole sits down to tie his own skates. Apparently he keeps all of his equipment here in a private locker room for the team because he now has on a black warm up suit with the team symbol and a pair of hockey gloves. He told me to bring a jacket, gloves, and a hat which is what I’m still wearing since it’s so cold in the rink.
Waiting for Cole to lace up his skates, I glance over at the ice suddenly feeling antsy to get out there. The urge to stretch my legs is almost overwhelming. And suddenly I can’t believe just how much I’ve missed it. Even in crappy rental skates, I just want to hit the ice. I watch as my warm breath puffs out in the quiet coldness. Along with the scent of ice and the feel of the rink… it all overloads my senses.
Again a million memories, a lifetime of them, crowd the inside of my head until I’m almost lost within them. I grew up at our local hockey arena. I can’t even remember just how many times my mom rolled her eyes before telling my dad and me that we should just have all our mail forwarded to the rink because we pretty much lived there. Like everything else, it’s a bittersweet memory.
Standing, Cole silently holds out his hand to me. I take his glove as he props his stick against the Plexiglas wall. Opening the heavy metal door, he steps out onto the ice before turning backwards as he waits for me to join him.
I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. He’s so adorable when he thinks he needs to coddle me. It almost makes me feel bad for tricking him.
Almost.
In his most sincere voice, he says, “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall.” Then he just waits patiently for me to close the distance that separates us.
Maybe I’m a terrible person for doing this but I just can’t resist. “Are you sure?” Gripping the wall as if scared, I gingerly hobble out onto the smooth sheet of ice, wobbling just a bit as I go. My arms flail as Cole swiftly grabs hold of me before gently towing me towards him. I let Cole do all the work while I glide without moving my feet.
“See? You’re doing so awesome!” Rather encouragingly he smiles as if he’s so proud that I haven’t fallen on my ass yet. It takes everything I have within me not to burst out laughing. God, but he is entirely too sweet. Although he really shouldn’t have made assumptions about my skating abilities. That’s where he screwed up. “Do you want to try to glide now? I promise, it’s super easy.” He releases my hands before demonstrating how to take long smooth strokes with my skates.
There’s a smile trying to desperately tug the corners of my lips upward but I bite down on my lower lip to keep it from happening. This is just way too much fun. And I’m nowhere near done toying with him yet. So I wobble just a bit more, eyes wide, arms wiggling as I carefully take a few short, choppy strokes.
Beaming, he circles smoothly around me. “You’re a natural- we’ll have you skating in no time at all.” He transitions from forwards to backwards easily as he continues floating across the ice. If anyone is a natural, it’s him. He is incredibly fluid. I could actually stand here all day and watch him.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” With my skates moving rapidly beneath me, I pretend to lose my balance until he catches me in his arms before drawing my cold body close to his. He stares into my eyes before dropping his gaze to my parted lips. A few breathless moments later they bounce slowly back up to my eyes looking way more heated than before.
“I’m going to kiss you, Cassidy,” he murmurs the words in a low gravelly voice, “If you don’t want me to, you’d better say something now.”
My breath hitches because I want more than anything to feel that amazing mouth of his roving over mine. And so I whisper, “Kiss me.” Not a second later, his lips are stroking hungrily over mine, caressing them gently. Just as I’m about to sink further into him, into our warm embrace, he pulls slowly away before untangling himself from me, leaving my body to pulse and throb with need.
Clearing his throat, he says sounding somewhat distracted, which is good because I’m fairly sure my eyes are glazed over right about now. “Okay, let’s try that again.” He motions with his gloves for me to skate towards him. Still feeling slightly disorientated, I carefully pick up each foot as if I’m rather clumsily trying to walk.
“No, don’t do that,” he patiently instructs, “you have to glide. Just remember- long smooth strokes.”
Long smooth strokes.
Argh… now that’s a rather distracting thought. Maybe even more distracting than his kisses.
Suddenly I’m picturing Cole taking those long smooth strokes he was just talking about. God, I bet he’s good at it. I mean, of course he has to be good at it. His kisses are literally mind blowing. Even thinking about them has me almost groaning, clenching my inner thighs together which is something I’ve never felt compelled to do before.
“Cassidy?”
Blinking my eyes, I stare at Cole who stands about ten feet from me. I can’t believe I was just thinking about that.
Here I am, practically fantasizing about him when all we’ve done up to this point is kiss. But they were seriously super-hot kisses, if that counts for anything. Mentally, I’m nowhere near ready for more and yet it seems as if certain parts of my body all but yearn for it.
Shaking my head to clear it, I decide it’s probably time to end this little charade. I’ve screwed with him long enough. I don’t actually think he’ll be pissed at me for playing him, because he seems way too easy going for that… but I guess we’re about to find out.
So I take one long perfect stroke and then another.
“Cassidy!” He beams happily. “You’re doing so awesome! Keep it up, baby!”
Eyes flaring, I almost stumble at the endearment.
“Careful!” He looks ready to race over and catch me at a moment’s notice. God, I wasn’t even trying to stumble. I take another long stride and then another and another until I’m flying across the ice.
“Holy fuck, Cassidy!” He shouts the words in amazement as I leave him behind.
At this point, I just can’t contain myself any longer and I start to laugh before picking up even more speed. Bent low, I finally do what I’ve been dying to and push myself even faster. It feels so good to finally stretch my legs, using muscles I haven’t exercised in almost a year. Even as I speed across the smooth ice, it feels like second nature. Quickly I peek over my shoulder only to find Cole still standing where I left him. His mouth is hanging open as he tracks me with wide eyes. Rounding the corner, I race quickly up the other side of the ice until I whip past him, flipping around on my skates so I can wave as I skate backwards around another curve. With my eyes holding his, I crisscross my skates picking up more speed in a series of complicated strokes.
I see the exact moment understanding dawns across his face. “You,” he bellows incredulously, “knew how to skate the entire time!”
I can’t help the gurgle of laughter that falls from my lips at his stupefied tone and expression.
“No, you’re just a really great teacher,” I yell back. “Didn’t all those five and six year olds take off just like this?”
My snappy words seem to spur him into movement as he digs his blades into the ice and takes off after me. Because he’s fast, I know he’ll catch me in a matter of moments and so I flip back around before forcing my legs to pick up even more speed. Finally catching up, he jerks me into his arms as we circle crazily across the ice. I shriek, afraid that we’re actually going to fall but we don’t. When we finally slow,
I’m laughing so hard that tears are streaming down my cheeks and my belly hurts.
Banding his arms tightly around me, his eyes narrow with disbelief. His words are just a low rumble as he accuses, “I can’t believe you lied to me!”
With a huge smile lighting up my face, I shake my head. “Technically, I didn’t lie. I never actually told you I couldn’t skate. You just assumed I couldn’t.” I giggle before adding, “And you know what they say about when you assume… it makes an ass out of both you and me.”
Shaking his head, his arms tighten even more as I find myself pressed up against him. A heartbeat later, his lips crash down upon mine in a kiss that singes my insides. Sighing, because even though this kiss is definitely more aggressive than any of the other kisses we’ve shared, it still doesn’t scare me. Instead it turns me on. Just as that thought slides deliciously through me, he backs off, looking apologetic.
“Sorry.” Then he leans his forehead against mine, his breathing a little bit more erratic from our race across the ice.
“It’s okay.” I hold his eyes before adding softly, “I liked it.”
A slow grin spreads its way across his gorgeous face as his eyes lock onto mine. “Is that so?” One brow arches as he watches me rather intently as if I might be lying.
“Yeah.” And I want more of them. More of him.
“Noted.” Then he leans in, slanting his lips carefully, almost gently across mine. Pulling back, he’s quiet for just a few moments before asking, “Figure or hockey?”
When I finally allow the smile to curve its way across my face, it’s just a shade patronizing. As a female hockey player, we had always looked down on all that figure skating crap. My forced retirement from the sport hasn’t changed that. “Hockey, of course.”
“Unbelievable.” Untangling his arms from me, he takes off towards the door leading off the ice.
Feeling suddenly unsure about the prank I just pulled, I hug my arms around my middle. “Where are you going?” Maybe I really had pissed him off.
“To get another stick,” he shouts back as if it should be completely obvious. I take a deep breath before slowly pushing it out as I force my body to relax again.
Returning with some equipment, he tosses me a pair of gloves before shaking his head. “Un-freaking-believable.”
Unable to help myself, I raise a brow. “Un-freaking-believable that a girl can play hockey?” During the years I spent skating with boys, I’d come across my fair share of jerky hockey guys who thought that a girl didn’t belong out on the ice. Especially with them. Not necessarily my teammates, but definitely opposing teams. Instead of getting frustrated and quitting, it had forced me to prove that I was a strong opponent. I learned to skate faster, play smarter, and be tougher.
His brows draw together as if that’s the furthest thing from his mind. “No… just that you played hockey and didn’t bother telling me.”
“Oh.” Feeling ridiculous for overreacting, I glance down at the white leather gloves as I flex my fingers inside them. They’re a bit too big but they’ll do. Cole tosses me a stick. It’s been so long since I’ve held one in my hands. Without waiting, I take off skating again. Flying forwards before switching seamlessly backwards. Cole takes three black rubber pucks from his pocket before dropping them onto the ice.
Passing one to me, I start bouncing it between my stick, moving the puck faster and faster across the ice. Cole just watches me for a while before murmuring, “You’ve got really soft hands.”
Glancing up, I meet his eyes before smiling just a little bit. “Yeah, that’s what my dad always said.”
“How long did you play for?” He asks the question casually but I suspect it’s more than mere curiosity that has him delving carefully into my background.
And I’ll tell him… but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m going to give him the full uncensored version. Even though I’m slowly beginning to trust Cole, I’m not about to lower my guard just yet and bare my soul. “I started skating when I was about three. I played on a boys house team until I was eleven and then I made a girls Triple AAA team until college.”
His face transforms as he digests my words. I watch as confusion finally settles over his features. His eyes are on my stick, watching as I easily handle the puck. “Pass it to me.” I do and it slides right onto his stick even though he’s suddenly flying across the ice towards me. “What made you decide not to play in college?” He seems genuinely puzzled by this.
Snapping the puck back to me, it lands easily on my stick. Rather than answer his question, I race down the ice before hitting it top shelf. In the middle, near the top of the metal bar is exactly where it ends up. I can’t deny the satisfaction sliding through me as the puck lands precisely where I placed it.
As I circle the net, Cole skates over.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He shakes his head, a small smile curving his lips upward. “You’re really good,” he suddenly laughs, “You know that, right?”
I smile tightly, not wanting to discuss hockey anymore.
“Cassidy, why aren’t you playing college hockey?” His words are softly spoken as if he somehow understands that he’s treading on shaky ground. “You must have been scouted.”
Without answering, I take off backwards, once again creating more distance between us. It’s not just physical. It’s emotional as well. The further I skate, the more in control I feel. Finally I say, “Do you mind if we just skate?”
With every question he voiced, I could feel my chest tightening up. And I don’t want this perfect time with him to be ruined by another anxiety attack. I just want to forget about everything except the feel of the smooth ice as my skates glide over it.
For a long moment, his eyes follow me until I’m near center ice. Just when I start to wonder if my silence has angered him, he fishes the puck out of the net and passes it before blowing past me.
Lightening the mood between us, he says, “Don’t think I’m going to take it easy on you just because you’re a girl.”
Taking a deep breath, I blow it out steadily. True to his word, he’s not going to push me. A slow smile settles its way across my face as I eye him. “Just be prepared to get your ass handed to you by this girl.”
And with that, the thick tension of moments ago dissolves. He grins. “Big talk. Now I’m really scared.”
“You should be.” For the next hour we scrimmage and honestly, even wearing crappy brown rental skates, I can’t think of a time when I’ve had more fun on the ice.
Chapter Thirteen
“It’s nice to see you looking so happy. Things must be going well.” Dr. Thompson smiles as she studies me closely. Her thin black framed glasses are perched on the bridge of her nose. Every hair of her blonde shoulder length bob is perfectly placed. Her beige suit is carefully tailored and form fitting. A thick string of creamy pearls clasped around her slender neck completes the picture. Sitting back, she looks decidedly pleased with my progress.
I have to admit, I’m fairly pleased with it as well.
Her words have a small smile blooming across my face. I feel happy. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this good. Even thinking about my life before it imploded, I’m not really sure how happy I was. I spent all of my high school years feeling stressed out. There was always another game to excel at. Another test to ace. Scouts sitting in the stands to perform for like I was a circus act.
No, the pressure is finally off. But it’s more than that…
I know a lot of my happiness has to do with Cole. I can’t believe what an amazing guy he’s turned out to be. It still makes me laugh that I’d tried so hard to blow him off in the beginning.
“So tell me what’s been going on to put such a smile on your face.”
I decide to start with a safe topic because honestly, I’m not sure what Dr. Thompson will think about me seeing someone. Because the whole no-boy-rule is definitely out the window at this point. Even though Cole and I haven’t officially talked a
bout it, we’ve been spending a lot more time together and I have actually been known to, upon occasion, spend the night at his house. Although we’re still taking everything slow. Like molasses in cold weather slow. But it works for me. For us.
“School is great. I have A’s in all my subjects. And I’m not feeling overloaded by the amount of work either.” Which is a total change from last year when I had been all but drowning in my classes.
Dr. Thompson smiles before nodding. “I’m not surprised. You’re very bright, Cassidy. I’ve started to suspect these courses aren’t challenging enough for you.”
I shrug even though privately, I agree with her. I’m not feeling especially challenged either. But that’s okay. After my disastrous first semester last year, I wasn’t exactly ready to jump into the deep end of the pool. I’ve more or less been dipping a toe in the shallow end of the baby pool. Now that we’re at the end of September and I’m still doing well, I’m thinking about speaking with some of my professors to see if they can make some recommendations for second semester.
“And tutoring, it’s still working out?”
“Yeah, I love it,” I say enthusiastically, “I’ve even been able to pick up a few more hours each week. And I’ve acquired a steady load of students who are requesting to work with me.”
She smiles, settling back in her chair. “Okay, so school and tutoring are both going well. I’m happy to hear that.” She pauses before asking, “What about your anxiety attacks? Have you experienced any since we last met?”
For just a moment I search my mind even though I know the answer. “None.” Which is a huge relief. I finally feel like I’m moving forward again. The anxiety attacks are so frightening. Debilitating. Because I really have no idea when one will strike. Which only ramps up my apprehension because I’m constantly on edge waiting for something to trigger one.
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