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“But are you sure?” I asked weakly. “You’re in pain.”

“This is a good pain.” His eyebrows flew up. “Wait, are you worried about me?”

The word No was at the tip of my tongue, but for some reason, I couldn’t say it. I glumly rolled my eyes.

His hand landed on my knee, making my thoughts completely die away. Instead, all of my energy was focused on that hand, on the way it seemed to warm my entire body.

“I’m not a quitter,” he said with a small smirk. “So stop asking.”

Chewing my bottom lip, my eyes dipped to his bandaged up feet. “You need bunga pads for the sides of your ankles. And lamb’s wool to stop the lace bite.”

“Bunga huh?” His face cracked.

“I’ll get you some,” I said quietly, forcing myself to stand.

“Cool, thanks.” He busied himself searching for the clicker on the couch.

I moved to my room, but when my hand reached for the doorknob, I paused. “Kappy…”

His warm brown eyes met mine.

“Why are you doing this? You can’t actually want this. Mastering a whole other sport? Why?” I asked, desperate for the truth .

“Why can’t you accept that I just want to?” he asked, his brown eyes never wavering from mine.

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Because this is just…it’s too…” It’s too much . I shook my head. “It’s crazy.”

“Maybe.” He gave a soft smile. “But it’s my choice. Relax and let me do the worrying, babe.”

He called me babe through the years, so I knew not to take it to heart, but it hit me right in the chest anyway.

And for some reason, I clung to the comfort of his sentence, his voice, and it eased my worry, at least for the night.

_______

Hans thankfully gave us keys to the back rink in the Coliseum for us to use anytime we wanted. The back rink, which was reserved as the Windy City Whalers’ practice ice, usually sat empty all summer while the team enjoyed their offseason, so no one even knew we were using it.

But that was about the only thing going smoothly for us.

After two weeks of spending every waking moment focused on bringing Kappy up to speed, things were still extremely shaky.

“You guys just aren’t gelling,” Patrick assessed from his spot in the team box on Friday morning.

My shoulders fell. Patrick was right. We were colliding every two seconds—I had the bruises to show for it—and then arguing about it every three seconds.

“Ow! We were supposed to go left,” I argued, holding my sore side.

“That was left.” He wiped sweat from his brow.

“The actual left, not your left.”

“What are you saying?” His hands went to his head. “Left is left.”

“God! You’re stupid! This is your left, this is my left! Left! How can you not see it!”

His face reddened with rage. “I’d love to see it your way, but I’m not flexible enough to stick my head up my own tight ass!”

“Okay, okay,” Patrick chided. “Let’s just calm it down.”

Covering my face, I let out a frustrated growl. Part of the problem was that I was used to skating with Patrick, who could practically read my body language like a book. Starting over with Kappy made me feel like a beginner again, which was depressing.

Smoothing my hands on top of my head, I grumbled, “I think we need to be done for the day.”

Patrick’s shoulders fell with a sigh before he waved me off.

Without another glance back at the guys, I hightailed it to the opening in the boards, but instead of turning into the locker room, I continued power walking through the rink until I was at the back of the pro shop facing Hans, who was busy sharpening skates.

Seeing that he had company, he powered down the skate sharpener and waited for me to talk.

“Why give us the ice and go along with this insane plan?”

He gave me a kind smile as he set an old Bauer skate aside. “I like that my kids are home. I want y’all to stay here. And…” A sadness entered his old blue eyes, which was shocking because he rarely exhibited emotion.

My eyes narrowed. “What? What is it?”

His chin quivered, shocking me.

“Are you okay?” Panic bloomed in my chest as I scanned him over.

He nodded and rubbed a weathered hand over his face to collect himself.

“You two loved to dance together.” He chuckled when he saw the surprise on my face.

“Thought no one saw you guys back at Centre Ice, eh? I did.” His blue eyes twinkled with a little mischief.

“People in the rink sometimes forget that these are games, and the players and skaters, they’re kids.

I think sometimes the players and skaters themselves forgot they were kids.

” He gave me a pointed look. “But at the end of the day, you and Richard, you two were kids together, and it was nice to watch, to hear the laughter, the fun.” He paused.

“Don’t forget that it’s supposed to be fun out there.

” He gave me a gentle smile before powering up the skate sharpener once again.

Fun.

I couldn’t even remember the last time skating felt fun .

Hans’ words echoed in my head the rest of the day.

_______ _

I could’ve left the rink hours ago, but instead, I laid down on the team bench behind Mer while she coached.

“How’s the partner search going?” she asked.

I paused. So that meant Kappy still hadn’t told Colt and JP about this insane plan yet. It didn’t feel like my place to share Kappy’s recent interest in figure skating, but at the same time, withholding information from my best friend felt all sorts of wrong.

Instead of answering, I blew out a sigh and asked, “Was skating fun for you?”

She mulled over the question as she watched her skater, Kaia, who was doing a program run-through. “In the beginning, yeah. Later on, not so much.”

“Why?” I stared up at the rink rafters. “Isn’t it supposed to be fun?”

She twisted her lips in thought. “The pressure gets to everyone.” She paused and her face tensed as Kaia entered her first jump. As soon as she landed it, Mer clapped. “It starts out as fun, but a switch happens when you decide to make a career of it.”

True. That was very true. And that decision had to happen as early as, like, eight-years-old.

“Why didn’t you quit? When it stopped being fun, I mean.”

She snorted. “I wanted to, but it’s hard.

It’s actually one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

It’s excruciatingly difficult to just…quit.

” She leaned to the right as Kaia entered a tight layback beilmann.

“To stop doing something you’re wired to do, to stop feeling upset when you can’t do certain skills or jumps anymore, it’s hard.

But at some point, you have to just let go to move on, ya know?

You can’t do it forever. And sometimes your body decides for you. ”

That was true in her case, and now I felt stupid for asking her. “How’s your knee?”

“Good.” She smiled. “Colt’s always researching more ways to help.” Her eyes briefly flitted to mine. “Wait, are you thinking about quitting?”

“No, I was just curious.”

She nodded. “What’s going on then?”

“I just feel like it hasn’t been fun for a while.” I blew out a sigh. “Sorry, I sound ridiculous.”

Her brow furrowed. “No, you don’t, and don’t apologize. When’s the last time it was fun for you?”

Staring up at all the hockey championship flags, I sifted through my memories.

There were little highs from wins with Patrick, of course, but if I really thought about it, the last time skating felt actually freeing and just fun was at the Barn back at Marshall University, when it was just me and Kappy messing around on the ice together.

But Mer didn’t even know about that. Clearing my throat, I settled on saying, “It was a while ago.”

Mer watched Kaia like a hawk as she entered her last combination jump. After she landed the clean combo, Mer clapped again. As soon as Kaia hit her ending pose, Mer turned to me. “Well, maybe try to recreate that situation.”

A commotion at the end of the team box made me pop up on my elbows.

Colt, dressed in workout clothes with a backward hat over his hair, made his way into the box holding two styrofoam cups.

“Piper.” He gave me a nod.

“I really hope one of those is for me.” I stared longingly at the concession stand cups, which I knew were filled with hot chocolate.

He laughed as he handed one of the hot chocolates to me, then waited until Mer was done speaking with Kaia. As soon as the buzzer sounded to end the session and Kaia skated off, Colt leaned over the boards and dropped a kiss to Mer’s cheek.

Colt whispered a little story to her, making her laugh. There was a clear happiness in her face, a calmness in his, and it suddenly felt like I was intruding.

I tried to slip away, but the damn team box door creaked, making Mer look up. “You don’t have to go.”

“It’s okay.” I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’ll talk later.”

“Okay, if you’re sure?” She didn’t look sure at all.

I gave her a firm nod, but as I turned, my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. The two of them had such an easy time showing and accepting love.

Why wasn’t it ever simple for me?

_________

Walking into my apartment, I knew why it wasn’t simple.

Because I stupidly gave my heart to the man-child wearing a headset and holding a controller currently camping out in my living room, making it smell like a fast-food chain. He seemed to have two modes—playing video games or sleeping—and there was no in between.

Stomping into my place, I grabbed my kitchen garbage can and started throwing away all of his goodies littering my couches.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with those!” he argued, trying to steal back his bag of Cheetos.

“Yes, you are,” I fumed, going for the collection of water and Gatorade bottles he was starting to accumulate.

“Wait, hold up,” he argued.

Finally looking at him, I gasped. “What happened to your face?” He had angry scratch marks on his cheek, forehead, and neck.

“Your damn cat happened to my face. Again.” He blew out a sigh. “Guys, I gotta go,” he said into the game.

“What cat?” echoed from the headset.

“Who are you talking to?” I recognized the voice as JP’s.