Page 6 of Hutch (Minnesota Raptors #2)

Daisy

“Absolutely not!”

Hutch sighs dramatically, but I’m determined.

He is not buying me skates. These things are like five hundred bucks.

I can’t afford that and I don’t think he can either, but he’s as determined as I am.

The sales guy has been laughing for the last five minutes without the good grace to at least turn away when he does it.

“You have to have skates to get on the ice.” He takes on this mulish expression that just makes the sales guy cackle louder.

“I can rent a pair.”

He looks like I told him he had to eat tofu for the rest of his life.

“That’s how people end up with broken bones.

Skates have to be molded to your feet properly which means you try them until you find the right pair.

If you rent a pair,” he spits out the word “rent” like it’s a dirty work, “then you end up with a pair that doesn’t fit right.

And that’s how you get hurt on the ice.”

“I’m only going to wear them once,” I try to reason with him. “Why would either of us spend this kind of money on something I will never put on again? If I put them on to begin with. I’m not sure I want to get on the ice.”

“You do.” He nods like its gospel and all but pushes me to sit down on the little wooden stool. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever done.”

“I don’t get the appeal of freezing my ass off.”

“You’re from West Virginia. Doesn’t it get cold there?”

“I’m from the coal fields. We’re anywhere from five to ten degrees warmer than most of the state.”

“But it does get cold and it snows?”

“Sure, but…”

“No buts.” He shoves three sets of skates at me. “Try these on. If they’re too tight or too big they won’t work.”

“Are you not listening to me?” I all but growl.

“I am, but I want to show you why I love hockey so much. It’s not about the sport, not really. It’s about the ice and the feeling I get when I’m on it. You sounded like you had a bad day and when I feel like shit, the ice always makes me feel better. I want to do that for you.”

That’s actually kind of sweet, but he and I are not the same person. I don’t see any bonus to getting out on a slippery surface on shoes with blades attached. Blades that could potentially do me serious harm.

“I’m not going to let you fall.” He smiles slightly at my hesitation. “I swear. Now, will you please try on the skates? I promised my mom I’d come over for dinner later, but I want to show you this too.”

“These are too expensive.”

“These are cheap compared to mine.”

“I can’t afford these.”

“But I can.” He waves away my protests. “I have tons of scholarships. My mom made sure I got good grades in high school for that reason alone. She wanted to make sure I wasn’t just an athlete.

She wanted me to get an education and I did.

I clear more money a semester from scholarships and grants than some people do in a year. Trust me, I can do this for you.”

Even if he can, I don’t like it. Nana raised us to only rely on ourselves and no one else. You can’t be beholden to anyone if you never ask them for anything. Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s something else. Either way, I’m not comfortable letting him buy skates that cost five hundred freaking dollars!

When I don’t move, he sighs and gets down on his knees in front of me and starts removing my shoes.

“Hey!”

“What? We need to get this show on the road.” He takes the first set of skates and puts one on my right foot, testing the fit. “Nope. Too loose.”

Three pairs later, he finds ones he likes. They do fit better than the previous ones. He laces them up and puts his fingers down the inside.

“They fit like a glove. These are the ones.”

He takes the pair and passes it to the sales guy, who says not a word, but he can’t hide his grin.

Men are stupid.

“I’m not…”

He puts a finger to my lips. “Hush. Let me do something nice for you and if not for you, then for me. I’ve had a shit day too and this will make me feel better.”

Grudgingly I nod. I still don’t like it.

He smiles like he’s won the lottery.

It’s not until we’re in his Jeep and driving back toward campus that he speaks again. His voice is husky and full of joy as he talks about the first time he got on the ice.

“Your dad introduced you to it?”

“Yeah. I was four and he took me to the same store I did you to get me my first pair of skates. I remember we went to this little rink on the other side of town. It was colder in there than it was outside.”

“Is that where we’re going?”

“Nah. That place closed down years ago. We’re going to the rink on campus.”

“Am I even allowed in there? Isn’t it just for hockey practice?” I can’t afford to get into trouble for being somewhere I’m not supposed to be and possibly getting kicked out of school or put on probation or something. I could lose my scholarship.

“You’re with me so it’ll be fine.”

“Arrogant much?”

“Just confident.”

Of course he is. All athletes think arrogance is confidence.

But he can be sweet too.

Which means I need to stay the hell away from him. I’m focused on school and getting my degree. Not chasing some guy who thinks he’s the shit.

As soon as I think it, I dismiss it. He’s been nothing but kind to me since I met him. I need to stop putting my hang ups on him.

“Here we are.”

I blink and realize we’re at the school’s rink. I must have fallen into my own thoughts for longer than I thought.

“How cold is it in there?”

His eyes widen. “Shit, I didn’t think about that. The cold doesn’t bother me much, but you’ll freeze.” He turns and reaches into the duffle bag in the backseat and pulls out a black hoodie. “This should work. It’s made from sherpa wool.”

“That thing will swallow me.”

“But you’ll be warm.”

He tugs it over my head and as predicted, it does swallow me. I look ridiculous.

He gets out of the Jeep and comes round to my side to open the door. He waits patiently for me to get out with my brand new skates before locking the vehicle.

The first thing I notice when we walk inside is the cold. It slaps you in the face and nearly robs you of breath. How in hell does he spend hours in here? Every day. Frostbite is a definite possibility.

“You’ll get used to it,” he promises.

I don’t think so.

“Why do you voluntarily spend time in here?” My teeth start to chatter and he laughs.

“Once you’re on the ice, you’ll warm up.”

Promises promises.

We sit on the bleachers and he helps me put on the skates and then shows me how to lace them up before putting on his own, which are twice the size of mine.

He’s just made my feet weapons of mass destruction that will be used against me in the next few minutes.

“This is so not a good idea,” I mutter as he helps me walk out onto the ice.

“It’s a perfect idea,” he rebuts and pulls me along.

How did I get here?

I should never have had lunch with him.

And I still need a job. I could be out looking instead of here worrying about falling on my bum and potentially getting seriously hurt or kicked out of school if we’re caught.

“Did I mention that I wasn’t good on roller blades?”

“Not the same as ice skates.”

“I never learned to ride a bike.”

“What?” Now that shocks him.

“It’s a balance thing. I couldn’t do it. My brother made fun of me all the time because I wrecked every time I tried. Nana told me to stop after I tore a ligament in my knee.”

“Well, I’m here to keep you from serious bodily harm. I’m not going to let you get hurt, sweetheart. Just trust me.”

Sighing, I take a tentative step forward and stumble. True to his word, he catches me before I can even attempt the face plant.

“Like this.” He shows me how to move the skates on the ice and I try my best to mimic him. It’s not as easy as he makes it look.

“This isn’t working.”

“Stop being a Nervous Nancy. Just hold onto me and I won’t let you fall.” His gray eyes flash with amusement.

Holding onto him turned into clutching him for dear life as we start to skate around the rink. The motion is easy to pick up, but I wasn’t joking about my balance. I’m not klutzy unless I’m on anything that requires me to balance like a bike or roller blades, or in this case, ice skates.

“Relax,” he tells me.

“Easy for you to say,” I say while trying not to fall.

“Okay, this really isn’t working.” He stops and does something totally unexpected. “Time for a piggyback ride.”

“What?”

He squats and looks over his shoulder. “Get on.”

“You’ll drop me and then we’ll both end up at the ER.”

He laughs and the deep, rich sound goes through me in the best possible way. “I’m not going to drop you. I bench press three times your weight.”

“Show off,” I mutter, but I do climb on his back and hold on for dear life when he stands up.

“Let me show you what it means to fly, sweetheart.”

And he does just that. He takes off like he has wings on his feet and within seconds he picks up speed and everything is flying by at a blur. I can’t help but laugh as the wind he’s creating rushes me.

“Told you!” he shouts as he skates even faster.

He was right. I love it now that I’m not worried about falling. It is like flying. How the hell does he go so fast? And he’s worried about four seconds? If he goes this fast during a game, he’s got nothing to worry about.

When he comes to a stop a few minutes later, he’s barely winded. I swear I’m breathing harder than him and he did all the work.

“So?” he asks after putting me down, his eyes twinkling. “Do you understand now why I love the ice so much?”

“I think you just like to go fast.”

He bursts out laughing. “I can go slow when I need to.”

“Hutch!”

He cringes and looks past me. A man in his mid-fifties or so is standing at the edge of the ice looking very stern.

“Hey Coach!” Hutch tosses him a wave, but he looks worried.

So Mister You’ll Be Fine If You’re With Me is now not so sure about that.

The coach walks over to us and arches a brow.

“Uh, this is Daisy. Daisy, this is Coach.”

“David Grimes.” He reaches a hand for me to shake. “Nice to meet you Daisy.”

“Are we in trouble?” I can’t keep the worry out of my voice. I can’t afford to get suspended or my scholarship taken.

“You would be if he didn’t just beat his own speed record.”

“What?” Hutch spits out.

“You just hit five seconds faster than your best time from last season. Skate like that tomorrow night and the scouts will be back.”

“I…I don’t know what I did.”

“You were skating without the pressure of being the fastest.” I tap his chest. “You skated from here and not your head.”

Coach grins. “I like this one. You should keep her.”

“Nobody’s keeping me. He dragged me here without a choice after kidnapping me because he thinks I don’t eat enough.”

“You hadn’t eaten all day.”

“Daisy, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“Uh…I’m not a big hockey fan.”

“She doesn’t know anything about the game.” Hutch looks absolutely scandalized when he says it.

“Then you best teach her,” Coach says. “Make sure she gets tickets to the game. And she’s right. Stay out of your head and just skate. Don’t think about the scouts or the NHL. Take it one game at a time. I should have seen how stressed you were.”

“You were stressed for me.”

He nods and points to Daisy. “I was. But this one is good for you. If she’s got you skating like this, then she’s got my vote. Even if the girl can’t skate for shit.”

“Your vote for what?” I ask, ignoring his snark.

He only smiles. “We’re getting ready to shut down the rink for the night so I’m going to have to shoo you two out of here.”

“Yes, sir.” Hutch gives him a mock salute and helps me off the ice.

It’s not until we’re pulling into the drive of my house that he mentions the game. “You’re coming to the game, right?”

“I don’t know. Hockey just isn’t my thing.”

“Please?” His eyes plead with me.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll bring you tickets tomorrow before I head over for the game.”

“I didn’t say I was coming.”

“You didn’t say you weren’t either so I’ll stay hopeful.”

Shaking my head, I grab my bag. “See you later and thanks for lunch.”

“Hey, don’t forget your skates.”

“You should take them back. I’m not using them again. I can’t skate.”

“I’m going to teach you.”

“My brother said the same thing when it came to my bike and the roller blades he got me for my birthday. We both ended up at the ER on more than one occasion.”

“I’ve been to the ER before and I’m sure I’ll be there many more times. I’m not scared of a few falls.”

He has no idea how dangerous I am when on a bike to not only me, but everyone around me. It’s cute that he thinks he’ll be the one to teach me how to balance.

“Sure, sure.”

“Let me have your phone.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to give you my number.”

“I don’t need your number.”

He grins. “Sure you do.”

I shake my head.

“Please?” He gives me this big loopy smile. “I promise not to abuse your number.”

“Why do you want my number?”

“How else am I going to make sure you eat?”

“I eat.”

“Woman, you were half starved when I found you today.”

“That couldn’t be helped.”

“I call bullshit. Eating is a necessity. You can’t go out looking for jobs on an empty stomach. It’ll only make you tired and grouchy.”

Truth, but still…

I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.

Despite my better judgment, I hand over my phone.

He smiles like he won the lottery.

“So you’re okay with me sending myself a text so I have yours?”

I’m shocked he asked. Most guys wouldn’t. At least not the ones I know.

“If you must.”

“See you tomorrow, Daisy!” He shouts after me when I close the door and start walking toward the house.

I wave and head inside, my mood lighter than it was.