by Mia Madison
“So, I'm a bet. Which if you win, the prize is a date with another girl? Sounds kinky. Can I watch?”
“Very funny. It's the XT Music Awards.” She tells me who's playing. I’ve heard of most of them.
“Good for them. Should I be scared? Do I have a rival?”
“I like those bands.”
“Anyway, you've been talking about me to your friend. I'm flattered.”
She reddens and pulls a face. “Will you do it?” My little nurse doesn't lack courage then, even though she blushes. I like a girl with spirit.
“Only if your friend doesn't have to come, too.”
I catch a faint smile on her lips. “I'll leave her at home. She doesn't like the ice rink.”
“We're going skating?”
She smirks. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, no problem. Let's say Saturday at seven. I'll pick you up.”
“I'll have to check my shifts. I'll get back to you.”
Jeez, she's hard work. “You have to go on a date to win your bet, right? Not just have me ask you out?”
“Right. I just don't know if I'll be able to make it on Saturday. You're not the only one whose services are in demand by the public.” Her eyes flash.
“I'm sure you're in demand all the time. I just want one night with you. I'm not sure I'll want to give you back to the public, though.”
“One evening, you mean.”
“No, I meant a night.” I know as soon as I said it I shouldn't have.
“You know what, just forget it.”
“You mean one night won't be enough?”
“One night will be one night too many.” She gets up from her chair.
“Just an evening then, skating and then dinner, to win your bet.”
“You don't give up, do you?”
“You told me not to. I can be very obedient.”
“I somehow doubt it.”
“The question is can you?”
She ignores my question and pulls a face. “What if I don't want to have dinner with you?”
“What if you don't? It's up to you.”
“Okay, then. But I won't be going home with you, if that's what you're expecting.”
“I never said you would.”
“And you'll behave yourself?”
“What sort of question is that? Of course I will.”
“You agreed to that too easily. I'm suspicious.”
“I may or may not have had my fingers crossed when I said it.”
And finally, she laughs. Oh, I want to hear more of that sound.
CHAPTER 6
Amy
This guy is the kind of eye candy you get on a billboard, head and shoulders above the guys who usually ask me out. I could stare all night, especially now I've seen him smile. But he's far too sure of himself, too cocky. I should run a mile but, for some reason, I don't want to. I glance at the clock. Is that the time? Damn, that went fast.
“That's my break over; I have to go back on the ward. Give me your number and I'll be in touch once I find out my shifts.” I know I'm free on Saturday, but I'm not going to tell him that now.
“Give me yours, and I'll send you a text so you can capture my number.” He takes out his phone.
“My phone is still in my locker. Portable devices interfere with sensitive medical equipment. Haven't you read the notices?”
“You'd think they'd invent something to deal with that by now.”
“They have. It's called paper and pencil.” I grab a flyer off the ledge under the bulletin board and a pen from my pocket.
“Here you go. I assume writing isn't an issue.” As he takes the pen from me, his fingers brush mine and I swear a tingle goes up my arm right to my nipples. I thought that kind of thing only happened in books, but my body's telling me right now it's anything but a myth.
He writes his number and salutes me as he leaves.
“Bye, officer,” I say.
And then I go back to see how his mother is getting on. It's strange that he didn't go back to see her before he left. Maybe he has to go to work or something.
*
I have a couple of days off after that and I wait until Friday to text him to say that I'm free.
He calls me right back. “Let me guess. You waited so long because you didn't want to look too keen.”
“No, I was busy.” Damn! He's totally right. I even told Sandra that's why I wasn't going to contact him right away. “What's wrong with texting?”
“I can't tell whether you're smiling or frowning in a text.”
“Isn't that what emojis are for?”
He scoffs and doesn't acknowledge my question with an answer. “So, tomorrow it is, then. I'll pick you up at seven. I'll take you skating, if we must, and then dinner?”
“Assuming I still want to go. Given your emoji allergy, you're some kind of freak, aren't you?”
“Maybe, but not because of that.”
“What way would that be? On second thought, don't answer that.”
“Probably best. Where do you live?”
“Is it safe to give you my address, you being a freak and all?”
“Totally safe. You know my mother. You know where I work. If I'm an axe murderer, I'm done for.”
I give him my details. “How is your mother, by the way? It was my day off yesterday and today.”
“All right, I expect. She's in the hospital's capable hands.”
“You don't know?”
“Well, she was still alive after her op. So I expect the hospital will be just as efficient at managing her recovery. They would tell me if there was any problem, I'm sure.”
I don't know what to say to that. Usually family members call once or twice a day anxious for news. So I just say, “Oh, I'd better go. See you tomorrow,” and end the call. What kind of guy is he to be so cold with his mother? He should think himself lucky to have one.
But then I shrug. I'm not joined at the hip with this guy. He can't hurt me. One date to get Sandra off my back, then I'm done. I just have to get through it. Sandra can't expect anything more than that.
CHAPTER 7
Ronan
Tom is itching for a beer after our shift on Saturday.
“Can't make it, sorry.”
“Hot date?”
“You could say. A nurse. Bit of a spitfire.”
He makes lewd gestures. “See if you can get her to wear her uniform.”
“Very funny. When was the last time you were in a hospital? Nurses don't wear uniforms with aprons like the ones in porn movies. She still looks good in her scrubs, though.”
“She won't be wearing whatever she's wearing for long if you have anything to do with it.”
“This one might be different.”
“Different. You always told me women were all the same. You've got it bad.” And he starts singing Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust.”
I flip him the bird and he laughs.
But it's true, Nurse Amy intrigues me, blowing hot and cold. I can tell she doesn't like the way things are with my mother. I can't say I'm thrilled about having a mother like that either. But there's nothing going to change that. And no point in rehashing old ground. I made the mistake once of talking about it to a woman and she never shut up about it, as if this thing could be fixed.
*
I pick Amy up at seven on the dot at her place. It's unusual for a woman I date to still live at home. I see a guy, who must be her dad, checking me out from the living room window as I park the car.
When she answers the door and grabs her coat and bag, I'm taken aback by how gorgeous she looks in jeans and a soft pink sweater that sets off her dark hair and molds itself around her curves, but her smile doesn't meet her eyes. She hardly looks at me and she doesn't introduce me to her parents. I get one word answers to everything I say on the way to the rink. This is not going well.
“Out with it,” I say once I stop the car outside the big building housing the rink. “Wh
at's on your mind? You might as well tell me why you're in a bad mood.”
“Nothing. I'm fine.”
“Call me stupid. But you're not fine. Let me guess. You expected me to show up with a bouquet of red roses?”
“No.”
“With a pack of camels to negotiate your hand in marriage with your dad?”
“No.” A gurgle, almost a laugh, escapes her lips but she squashes it down.
“You wanted me to turn up in full-firefighter-gear?”
“No.”
“What, then?” Why the fuck am I putting up with this? Even now I want to kiss her as much as I want to put her over my knee and spank that round ass of hers.
“If you must know, I don't like the way you are with your mother.”
Of course, I knew it was probably that. I was just hoping it wasn't. “I rarely see my mother.”
“That's the whole point. What kind of guy treats his mother like that?”
“The honest kind. You don't like that?”
“I like honesty, not cruelty.”
“You wouldn't like my mother either, then, on either score.”
“Oh my god, did she beat you up?”
“No. She never hit me.”
“So what makes you not care when she's recovering from surgery? I don't get it.”
“I don't want to go into that. It's water under the bridge.”
“Right then. Maybe this was a mistake. I'd like to go home, please.”
Fucking hell! Why can't she just leave it alone? She's like a terrier with a bone.
“If I tell you, will you stay?”
“I don't know, yet. You'll have to tell me first.” She looks at me, expectantly, like I'm going to tell her a long story, but there's not much to say, really. Not much I want to say.
“Okay. If you must know, she just left without a word when I was thirteen.”
“What do you mean? She didn't tell you she was going?”
“No. No hint. Nothing. One day I came back from school and she was gone. I didn't see her after that for years. We moved a few times after she left and even the Christmas and birthday cards I used to get stopped.”
“How come you're in touch now?”
“One day, my picture appeared in the paper, and she found out where I worked and came to see me.”
“Did she explain?”
“No. And I didn't ask her. There's no excuse for what she did. Not how she hurt me and Dad. He never got over it either. But after she found me, I had a coffee with her. After all those years, I wasn't that young hurt kid anymore. She asked if she could keep in touch and I said yes. Dad was furious and he would be mad that I'm paying for her operation. But it can't hurt him now that he's dead.”
“You brought her into the hospital. You must feel something for her.”
I've had enough of this conversation. Maybe this date was a mistake, just like Amy said, and I should take her home. I almost start the car, but I look over at Amy and I want to give it one last try.
“She's my mother, and she asked for my help. So I gave it, but I'm not going to act as if she's my favorite person. The hospital would let me know if anything was wrong. I'll take her home too, and make sure she's all right. I'll even pay for it all, but I'm not going to pretend something I don't feel. Now, do you want to go skating or not?”
CHAPTER 8
Amy
It's a lot to take in. Mrs. Kendall left Ronan and his dad a long time ago. I can't even imagine what that would be like if that had happened to me as a teenager, if my mother had chosen to leave rather than cancer doing its worst. I'm still not convinced it was so black and white with Ronan's mother, but if I don't give it a rest, it's pretty clear this date will be over before it begins. And for some reason, my heart sinks at the thought of Ronan taking me home now. Even though realistically it's only ever going to be one date, I don't want it to end so badly.
So, I say, “Okay then, let's go skating. I warn you, I used to take figure skating lessons when I was a kid.”
“You'll have to hold onto me, then.” He smiles at me, a tight smile, but a smile.
By the time we collect our rented skates, the frostiness between us has melted. I tell him how long it is since I've been to the rink, how much the place has changed since I was there, and how Sandra won't go with me because she spends the whole time clinging to the side.
“I might need to cling to the side myself,” he says. “Promise me you'll rescue me and not just laugh if I fall over and can't get up.”
He grabs my hand and smiles as we step onto the ice.
I skate around him and he seems hesitant at first, a look of concentration on his face, as if he's almost afraid to move. He grips my hand in his as if he doesn't want to let go, but he manages to stay upright despite his initial uncertainty. After a couple of spins around the ice where he seems to be getting the hang of it, he says, “Leave me at the side if you like. Skate away and I'll admire you from there. I want to see what you can do.”
“As long as it's my skating you're admiring,” I say.
“What do you take me for? I swear, I never even noticed how gorgeous you look tonight in that little pink sweater.”
I blush at the compliment, but I love that he said it and as I leave him at the side, he plants an unexpected kiss on my cheek. Excitement slithers down my spine at the brief contact, my heart thumping as I skate away from him.
I like the idea of him watching me as I swoop around at speed, avoiding the other skaters, the tinny dance music blaring out from the speakers. I only gave up skating because I was so busy with homework and exams. I'm having a good time. Maybe I should come here more often. But is it Ronan that I'm enjoying, more than the ice?
When I look over to see if he's watching me, he waves and smiles, but on my next turn around the rink, I glance over to where he was standing and he has disappeared.
Is this his way of standing me up for being in such a mood at the start of our date? My heart sinks. I'm not sure why I care, given this is a one off date anyway, but somehow I've gone off skating around on my own.
“Hey.” Ronan skates up behind me and comes to a stop in a shower of ice. “You're not giving up so soon?”
I look at his skates and then up at him. “You can skate! You made me think you couldn't.”
“I wanted to hold onto you. It seemed like a good idea.” He laughs and runs his thumb over my cold cheek, holding my gaze. My nipples tighten to achy points and it's nothing to do with the chill of the ice and everything to do with this man and his touch.
I gather myself together. “So where did you learn to skate?”
“I was on the junior ice hockey team. But it's years since I've been to a rink.”
“Why did you give up?”
“I gave up everything for a while.”
He doesn't say it, but I guess that must have been when his mother left.
We end up having a great time on the ice, skating around together, sometimes holding hands, sometimes me skating backwards looking at him, sometimes him, looking at me. It's exhilarating, but I start getting cold after half an hour or so and he catches me shivering.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says. “Enough for now?”
There's a cool breeze in the air despite it being August and it's just getting dark when we leave the rink.
He holds my hands in his and kisses them, blowing on them to warm them up. “I forgot what skating was like. Thanks for taking me back there. Now for something hot and dinner, as well.”
“Coffee,” I say. “Or hot chocolate, you mean.”
He laughs. “No, but I can live with that, if you want coffee before dinner. I can put off the reservation.”
“It's okay. Let's go to dinner.”
“I haven't been to a restaurant before, so you had better hold my hand.” He grabs hold of mine again as we walk to the car.
“Very funny.” But I leave my hand there in his, all strong and warm surrounding my much smaller fingers, and I ca
n't help regretting we didn't park the car much farther away.
CHAPTER 9
Ronan
Dinner at Luigi's is good. Everything is always cooked to perfection there. Other Italian restaurants cook food I can easily manage at home, but Luigi has a way with chicken and pasta and cream sauce that makes his food like nothing I ever tasted.
But it's not dinner that makes the evening special. I've eaten at Luigi's many times. It's Amy. She makes me laugh, she makes me smile. Her face lights up when she talks and it's as if I'm the only guy in the restaurant, even the only person she cares about in the world.
She looks at me with those big eyes and long lashes and I want her to sense that I care just as much about her, that she's more than some girl I'm taking out.
It feels like I'm jumping from the open doorway of a plane here, not knowing if my parachute will open. This is whole new world for me. But if I'm going to risk falling for anyone, I'd like to risk it with her. For once, I don't think one night will be enough. I've never wanted any woman in my bed so much, or cared more whether she says no or yes to the idea. A first for me.
“So,” I say over coffee. “I'm all ears. What is Sandra's advice about dates?”
“I thought you didn't agree with Sandra's relationship advice.”
“Not so far, but I need to know what it is too, so I can trash it. Did she say anything about this date?”
“I'm not telling you what she said.”
“Now I really want to hear it.”
“How come you're on the dating scene again?” she says, swiftly changing the subject.
“Did Sandra tell you to ask that?” I laugh. “Anyway, what do you mean again? I've never been off it.”
Her eyes widen at that. “I just thought you must have been divorced or something.”
“You can't believe no one snapped me up?”
“I just thought… with you being so old.” She laughs and ducks, as I take a fake swipe at the air in front of her as if I was going to strike her.
“No, not married. Not separated. Not divorced.”
“No one ever pinned you down, huh? Well, you don't have to worry about me. I'm only after one evening out and a ticket to the XT Music Awards.”