by Leslie North
Chris checked his phone, and then a smile lit up his face. “I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Can’t say. Just follow me.”
He strode to his coat and jerked his head toward the door. She hurried to grab her things and followed him. Except when they left the multipurpose room, he didn’t head for the main doors heading out to the parking lot. Instead, he hung a left down the long corridor leading to the back of the community center.
“Where are we going?”
He shook his head, keeping his fast pace toward the side exit. When they burst through the doors, the chilly mid-November night air sent a shiver through her. She tightened her coat around her, resisting the urge to nuzzle into his side.
“Are we heading into these darkened woods? Seems like a great time.” She snorted as he led her down a winding stone path.
“Just wait and see.”
Their steps crunched over the brittle leaves littering the pathway. Through the bare limbs of the trees, lights twinkled up ahead. As they neared, she saw strings of lights lining a long glass half-wall. When she realized what she was looking at, she gasped.
“The community center ice skating rink!” She grabbed his forearm, looking out at the small icy arena. A few people were still skating. Chris had led her through the woods toward the rink as a means to fool her, no doubt. The rink was more readily accessible from the side of the community center. “You took me on the scenic route!”
“Well I couldn’t make it obvious what I was doing. They’re open for another half hour,” Chris said, showing her the time on his phone. “I figured if you couldn’t skate with your family, you could at least skate a little.”
She tried to hide her grin behind the collar of her coat, but it was hopeless. She was smiling like a fool. This was impossibly sweet, but she was hesitant to admit it.
“We never come to this one,” she said, practically skipping alongside him. “It’ll be nice to try a new spot.”
She reached out for his hand automatically, as if it were the most natural gesture in the world. They held hands for a few paces before Chris looked over at her, which jarred her awareness.
“Oh.” She dropped his hand as they came up to the rink. A few tall light poles placed around the perimeter made the rink as bright as day but caused the surrounding woods to fade into obscurity. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I didn’t say you had to stop.”
A nervous laugh slid out of her, and she directed her attention to the small booth for skate rentals. “What size are you?”
“Eleven.”
She lifted a brow, though he couldn’t see it. So many inappropriate responses came to mind, and every single one of them had to do with the huge package between his legs. She requested their sizes from the attendant, and a moment later they were sitting on a steel bench booting up.
“Size eleven, huh?” She couldn’t keep it in after all.
“What?”
She rolled her lips inward, trying to keep in a giggle. “Your dick is size eleven too.”
He smirked, eyes flashing. “And you’ve loved it every time you’ve had it.”
His smooth response sent heat curling through her. God, she couldn’t deny it. It was as true now as it was back in high school. But his response reminded her of her own resolve. However fine his dick was, getting back on it was not the goal.
Keeping work and pleasure separate was.
Even though ice skating was sort of blurring the lines.
This is just a nice thing he’s doing. And after spending so much of his time as a huge asshole, it’s okay to just let him be nice for once. The rationalizations flowed freely as she tied up her boots and they wobbled their way into the rink. Besides, it’s not like this means anything. You’re just two work colleagues blowing off steam after work. This is fine. Everything is fine.
Mara pushed off into a steady, straight line. Within ten seconds, Chris was flat on his ass, looking up at her with one eye pinched shut.
“Damn. You fell on your butt so soon?”
“I’m not really good at skating.” He held up his hand to request help, and she tugged him to his feet. This time when he skated, she stayed by his side.
“Got it?”
“Mostly.” He wavered a little, palms out to his sides for balance. “God, how do you make it look so easy?”
“Twenty-eight years of annual holiday skating.” She blew on her nails and sent him a sly look. “I know you’re jealous.”
“You should try out for the Olympics with cred like that,” he cracked.
“Already did.” She snorted, shoving her shoulder into him. “Just kidding, I suck too.” The small gesture threw him off balance and a moment later he toppled to the ice. His body shook with laughter, which caused her to crumple beside him.
“Okay, you really suck,” she admitted.
“This is my first time.”
She pulled back to look him in the eye. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
She climbed to her feet and helped him up again. Once they were both moving forward somewhat steadily, she said, “So you’re not good at everything.”
“Did you expect me to be?”
“Well, you certainly act like you are.”
“We all should act like we are.” He smirked, some of his black tresses falling over his forehead. “Fake it till you make it.”
Mara took a deep breath of the crisp night air, smiling out at the wooded area and the crystalline night sky. This was lovely, even if it went against tradition. Even if it was with her ex and professional rival right at her side.
“Thanks again for helping me tonight,” she said, looking over at him. He wobbled and she grabbed his hand. “You didn’t have to, being your competition and all.”
“Yeah, well, we all need a little help sometimes.” He squeezed her hand, and heat flooded her body.
“You don’t ever seem to need help,” she pointed out. “Except on an ice rink.”
“Trust me, I’ve needed and received help,” he said. “Back when I was first auditioning for my cooking show, I got really sick the night before the last interview. I roped in my mom’s housekeeper to help me do some of the vital prep, but I never told anyone.” He squeezed her hand. “Maybe I got the show because of her, ya know?”
She got lost in his gaze for a moment, not watching where they were going until they ran headfirst into the glass wall.
“Oh!” She gripped the edges, a laugh rocketing out of her. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Come on, Olympian.” He squeezed the sides of her waist, prompting a shriek.
“Don’t tickle me!”
“I have to, now that you know my deep, dark secret.” He pinched her sides again, his blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll tickle you until I’m the better skater.”
Giggles turned into belly laughs as Chris tormented her under the inky black sky. This wasn’t a night she could have predicted, but damn, it was one of the best impromptu nights out she’d ever had.
If she closed her eyes, she could almost fall back into the past. Back when they were young and in love and giddy as ever. That spark was still there between them. It pulsed and throbbed on the ice rink, as though the connection had never disappeared.
And really, maybe it hadn’t.
They’d just temporarily suspended it.
Waiting for their second chance.
9
Their skate session didn’t last long—thankfully. Chris was happy to have regular shoes on again once the attendant closed down the rink for the night. As they walked back toward the community center, Mara heaved a long sigh.
“We always would close out ice-skating night with hot chocolate,” she said wistfully, as if she hadn’t seen her family in years instead of probably hours. “Too bad it’s too late to go to Sweet Stuff for a hot chocolate.”
“You usually have hot chocolate after, huh?”
She nodded, looking up at him wi
th a sweetness and mischief that nearly split him in two.
“All right. Let’s make our own then.” He slipped his arm over her shoulders as they walked, and she fit in the space perfectly. “I’ve got all the fixings back at my place. We can have a replacement hot chocolate testing, to see if it surpasses Sweet Stuff’s legendary concoction.”
“Oooh!” Her eyes lit up. “A hot cocoa tasting. I am so in for this.”
He led the way to the parking lot, and she stopped as they neared the few remaining cars.
“Should I follow you? Where do you even live?”
“I’m in a rental down the street. I walk here every day, so maybe you can give me a ride.”
She tutted. “You really are a New Yorker now, aren’t you?”
“I am officially a card-carrying New Yorker. But I do have a rental while I’m here.” He followed her to her car, and they slid into the front seats. The car smelled like her, which made his eyes flutter shut. The more he got of her, the more he wanted. It was both infuriating and intoxicating at the same time.
Inviting her back to his place was a big no-no. Helping her avert a crisis and ice skating after work was one thing. Both of those hovered on the boundary of simply friendly. But bringing her into his space, where his bed sat mere feet away, was just asking for them to take things back into flour-on-the-ass territory.
And hell, he didn’t mind that one bit. Even though he should mind and was actively trying to mind.
“It’s here.” Chris pointed out the brick condo tucked into a lit square in downtown Glenford. It was the most expensive place he’d found on the home share app and worth the extra money. Rooftop jacuzzi with a view, fully stocked kitchen, king-size bed in a huge room with skylights. The place was nice enough for him to consider leaving his swank Brooklyn walk-up behind.
“Ooh. I’ve always wondered what this place looked like on the inside.” She parked, and they meandered toward the entrance, not speaking, just sending each other flirty looks.
This was the sort of shit he didn’t have back in New York. This innocent but totally sultry back-and-forth. Not to mention the history and connection that he had with Mara. Nobody else had ever come close to burrowing in like she had, not in nearly a decade of subpar dates and underwhelming television-industry hookups. Which made their reunion even more confusing.
And at this point? He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to love or hate her.
To be honest, it was more of the former than the latter anymore.
Once he pushed inside the condo, Mara turned into a gaping, cooing mess. He showed her nearly every inch of the industrial chic condo, complete with exposed brick walls and an abnormal number of potted palms. The tour ended in the kitchen, where he got to work on the next phase of the evening: preparing the perfect hot chocolate.
Mara slid onto the bar stool facing the counter as he arranged his ingredients. She was grinning like a kid.
“Why are you watching me like that?” he asked. She’d been resting her chin in her palm for too long, giving him doe eyes.
“I feel like I’m watching your show,” she said, and then giggled into her palm. “I don’t know. The apartment kind of looks like your set, doesn’t it?”
He looked around, realizing she was right. The condo resembled the set of Cooking with Chris at least distantly, with the steel appliances and bright but industrial chic backdrops.
“We can film it, if you want to make it even more authentic,” he cracked.
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away. Tension sizzled between them for a few moments before he added, “Are you going to make another size eleven joke or should I?”
She snorted, swatting at him. “No more of those, okay?”
“Fine. If you say so.” He whisked the milk and cream in the saucepan and then added espresso powder. She arched a brow.
“Espresso, eh?”
“Hey. This is my cooking show.” Without breaking his stride, he reached for the bar of dark chocolate he’d set out. He broke the squares into the saucepan one by one, stirring rhythmically.
“Well, you’ve already won best hot chocolate, so don’t worry. I’m pretty sure Sweet Stuff uses a packaged mix.”
“Ha!” He pumped his fist. “Victory is mine.”
Mara sent him a curious smile. “Always have to win, don’t you?”
“Not all the time, but most of the time.” He snapped off the heat and poured two dark and creamy cups of hot chocolate. He topped them off with whipped cream and handed her a mug before picking up his own. “Let’s go enjoy.”
He led her to a sitting room filled with bookcases and low sofas. They settled into opposing sofas, and they took turns blowing on their mugs and sending flirty looks.
“Is it weird to be back?” she finally asked.
“Yeah. I’ve stopped in Glenford for just a day or two before over the years, but this is the longest I’ve been here. And it’s a weird trip down memory lane.”
“Yeah.” A frown slowly tugged at her lips. “Like when Dan showed up.”
The mention of his name was like being covered in ice cubes. He rolled the mug back and forth between his hands, unsure what to say. It had been nice pretending the past didn’t matter anymore. Like maybe they could just be friends and something more now.
“You know, that night at the dance—”
“Mara, you don’t have to bring that up,” Chris interjected, feeling suddenly stupid. Here they were, almost thirty years old and still rehashing shit that happened senior year.
“No, I want to.” She sighed, fluffing up a pillow behind her. “When Dan and I kissed, it ruined everything between you and me. And I felt so bad about that. You had every right to be mad, you know? But you went off the deep end afterward and never even heard my side of things.”
Chris tilted his head slowly back and forth. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Doesn’t it?” A sharp laugh escaped her. “The way you acted around him today tells me maybe it does.”
Damn. So this was what it felt like to be called out. And so blatantly.
“I guess I’m just trying to say that the night it all happened, it wasn’t some big, secretive cheating thing. Dan kissed me. I didn’t kiss him. He wanted us to give it another shot, but I told him I was with you. He said, ‘let me convince you then,’ and he kissed me on the middle of the dance floor. I regretted even letting him try. Maybe I could have pulled away sooner. I don’t know, I just—”
Chris was gripping the mug so tightly he worried he might break it. He set it down on the table beside the couch.
“You were so mad, and you moved on so quickly. I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do.”
“So dating Dan immediately after that night was the only option you saw?” he asked, unable to prevent himself.
She wilted a little. “It wasn’t the best choice, I know. It was just…the easy choice. I was eighteen and you were being a major dick. I knew you’d never forgive me. I don’t know what else to say.”
Chris reached for his mug again. He usually liked to avoid thinking about that time of his life, but hearing Mara’s side of things did help. Maybe he hadn’t been the victim of an intentional cheating campaign, as he’d believed all these years.
Mara slurped at her hot chocolate and let out a low moan. Chris snapped his eyes up to her. The sound traveled straight to his cock, and hell if he wasn’t ready to forgive and forget immediately.
“This is so. Good.” She said, pinning him with a look.
“Thanks. Kind of like your pussy.” He flashed a grin.
She snorted. “Hey. We said no more size eleven jokes.”
“That was no joke,” he countered. “Just a fact.”
She tilted her head. “Fine. Then here’s another fact. The only way to put the past to rest is to kiss and make up.”
He forced himself not to blurt out a yes. “You think?”
“Yes. Let’s put Dan behind us and finally become adults.”
She snickered. “Exactly. The one thing holding us back from finally maturing.”
The grin on his face spread ear to ear. There was a reason he’d fallen for this girl the first time, and it looked like she hadn’t changed a bit.
“Fine. Come and get it, then.”
Mara set down her mug and nearly bolted over to his couch. She settled beside him, looking up at him with a gaze that sparkled as much as it sizzled. And then she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forward so that their lips came crashing together.
A small oomph escaped him, but he quickly recovered and met the brutal pace of her desire. They kissed heavily, sloppily, with abandon. Because now, unlike at the community center, there was no chance of someone walking in on them. It was just them in the cozy silence of the condo—and their small moans and heated breaths as they made out as if their lives depended on it.
Chris guided her backward onto the couch. He eased himself on top of her, pinning her between his arms and legs. His cock settled between her legs, and when he bucked his hips, she moaned.
“God,” she cried out. “I didn’t think we’d progress this fast.”
He laughed throatily, nipping at her earlobe. “Are you new here? Have you met us?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she croaked, her legs splaying open to welcome him. “We did fuck on set the first day of filming.”
“Thank you.” Chris sat back on his heels and undid his shirt. Mara untucked it while he worked on the buttons, then she shoved her hands beneath the cotton.
“You didn’t take your shirt off last time,” she complained, actually pouting. “That wasn’t fair.”
“Neither did you,” he shot back. “Guess we’ll just have to get totally nude.”
She giggled, smoothing her hands over his chest once he tore his shirt off. Her gaze sizzled across his pecs to his biceps. She tugged at the tuft of hair on his chest.
“You still have chest hair.”
“Of course.” He dipped down for a slow, thorough kiss. “Where would it go?”