Page 16

Tobie

“You said nothing about me getting on the ice, just that you do your best thinking on it,” I say, refusing the ice skates Reid offers me.

On Monday mornings, I’m usually in the library or going for a walk.

Instead, I’m in an empty ice rink with the hockey player who kissed me last night.

“It’s fun.”

“I believe you,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’ll watch you have fun from over here. On land. Where it’s safe. Anyway, where did you get the skates from?”

I eye them curiously because they actually look like they might fit me.

“I paid attention when we were at the store. This might be a tiny bit big for you.” He grins at me. “A couple of the freshmen have suspiciously small feet. You know what they say about guys with small feet?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“They wear small shoes?”

He laughs. “Your cute sense of humor won’t save you. Come on, Tobie. It’s fun. Grab a seat. I’ll help you put them on.”

This is the first time anyone has accused me of having a sense of humor, let alone a cute one. It’s what distracts me when Reid circles my wrist and presses me into the bench closest to the rink entrance.

“Because you think if you give them to me, I’ll run away instead of putting them on?” I try to get up when I realize my distraction has cost me.

“Exactly.” He nudges me back down, and I blow out a sigh so heavy he flashes me a grin and drops into a crouch in front of me. He tugs off my sneakers before helping me into the skates.

I look at the top of his head. “You kissed me last night.”

I told myself I would not talk about it. I would just pretend it never happened since he seemed like he was pretending it didn’t happen when he knocked on my door this morning.

He peeks up at me through hooded eyes. “Yup.”

I study him some more. “You didn’t have to. I mean, not that Marc believed we’re dating, even with the kiss.”

“Oh, he believed it,” he says cheerfully.

“You looked like you were getting ready to punch him.” I’d been frozen as Reid stepped up to Marc, all his amusement melting away as he aimed a hard stare at my ex-boyfriend.

He ties the laces for my left skate and moves to my right. “I was.”

I’m not sure why Reid is so determined to commit violence on my ex-boyfriend, and I’m not sure why it makes me feel so good to hear him say stuff like that. I’m not confrontational, but maybe I’ve been secretly harboring a violent side all this time.

“You shouldn’t. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your coach.” Not because I don’t think Marc deserves it.

“That’s only if he found out.” Finished with my skates, he moves on to his, and I realize something else important.

“You did mine first so I couldn’t run away, didn’t you?”

A smile stretches across his mouth, and I sigh again.

He makes quick work of kicking off his sneakers and lacing up his dark blue skates. Then he’s up, reaching for my hand. “Let’s hit the ice.”

“I’m cold,” I complain.

“You’ll warm up when you get moving,” he says with a smile that says he’s not buying what was a last desperate effort to get out of this skating business.

And it was a bad lie because Reid double-checked to make sure I’d layered up with a couple of T-shirts, a thick sweater, socks, and a coat because it can get so cold in the arena.

He steps out onto the ice first and turns to face me.

I grab onto the side of the rink and hold on for balance. I also hold on because I have no intention of breaking my face, which is exactly what will happen if I follow Reid onto the ice.

“Come on, Tobie.” He holds his hand out for mine.

I shake my head. “I’m going to do the splits and break my hips.”

“You’re not going to break your hips.”

“Then I’ll break the ice and fall through to the other side.”

“The other side?” Flint-gray eyes sparkle with amusement.

I cling to the side of the rink, desperate to hold on forever. “Uh… Australia?”

He laughs. “You won’t break anything. I’ll go in front. You can hold my hands.”

“But you’ll be skating backward,” I remind him.

He winks. “I have been known to do that a time or two.”

I blush at my stupidity. Of course, he knows how to skate backward. He could probably do it blindfolded.

He grips my hips and tugs. “Come on, let go.”

I clamp on even tighter.

“Shit, you have some grip on this wall,” he says, impressed.

“Yes, so you should probably just give—” His fingers dig into my sides, and I squeal, letting go as a snorting giggle bursts out of me.

I clamp my hand over my mouth, but from Reid’s grin, I fear it is far too late for that.

“You’re ticklish.” He looks absolutely delighted.

“No, I’m not,” I say in a rush.

He reaches out to tickle me again.

I slap his hand away. “ No .”

“Come on,” he cajoles with a boyish grin. “I want to hear your laugh again.”

“It’s a ridiculous laugh. No.”

“It’s a cute laugh.” He pursues me as I move away from his hands.

Something very important suddenly occurs to me. I’m on the ice, and I haven’t broken through it and fallen to Australia. I beam at him. “I’m skating !”

As if gravity were waiting for that moment, my left leg goes one way, my right the other, and before I can scream, I’m clamped against Reid.

“I’ve got you.”

I wish he would continue to have me because pressed up this close is incredible.

His eyes are half-hooded as he continues to skate until we bump against the side of the rink. “You feel good in my arms, Tobie.”

“Do I?” There’s a tremble in my voice.

“You do. I’m wondering if you would feel the same way in my bed.”

It’s like a bucket of cold water flung into my face.

My smile turns cool. “That’s nice. Can you let me go now?”

A line forms between his eyebrows. “Why’d you stop smiling?”

“No reason.” I try to escape, but it’s hard to do when I’m on the ice, can’t skate, and a six-foot-three guy has a hold of me.

“Something is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong,” I snap.

Silence.

I clear my throat. “I meant to say that I have an appointment I need to get to.”

His eyebrow nearly disappears into his hair. “Uh-huh. What’d I say?”

“Nothing?”

“You don’t like me flirting with you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He’s suddenly serious. “If there’s something I’m doing you don’t like, tell me. I’ll quit.”

“No guy just quits.”

“This one does.”

He waits.

I huff. “Okay, fine. You’re a jock, and jocks flirt with pretty girls. You’re only pretending to think I’m pretty. Can you not bother with flirting when it’s just us? No one is around, so there’s no point.”

He stares at me like he can’t believe he has to say this. “You think I’m pretending to think you’re pretty?”

“Yes.”

He stares at me some more. “I just had you pressed up against me. You think a guy can fake a hard-on?”

“Yes.” I think about it. “Maybe?” He raises an eyebrow. “Nooo?”

“Jeez, we’re not machines.”

He points downward. “ That is only stirred to life by a woman I find attractive. That’s it.” He pauses. “And occasionally when my zip rubs against my…” He shakes his head, stopping right before he gets to a good part. “The rest isn’t important.”

I study him for a bit. He seems sincere, so I nod. “Okay.” I turn around. “Well, since we’ve done this skating thing now. Maybe?—”

“Not so fast.”

He tugs me, but it’s too late. I’m gripping the side, and I’m never letting go.

He pulls harder.

I hug the wall.

“You could teach the defense a thing or two about holding firm, Giggles. Let go.”

I peer over my shoulder at him. “What did you call me?”

“You heard me. Let’s go.”

“You only heard me giggle once,” I tell him as I cling to the side like I need it to breathe.

“And once was more than enough for me to know it was the cutest giggle in the world. I want to hear it again.”

“It wasn’t cute.” I release one hand and poke him in the side. He drops me and takes a small step back, and I swear he clamps his arms tight to his sides.

My eyes narrow. “Are you ticklish?”

“No.”

“Hmm…” I stretch my arm toward him, and he backs up so fast there’s no way I’m not instantly suspicious. “You’re ticklish too. Come back here.”

“No.”

I eye him across the ice.

He does the same, and a smile transforms his face. “I’ll let you tickle me if you skate to me.”

“But gravity doesn’t like me.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Did you not see the way my legs just went in opposite directions?” I shake my head. “I can’t do it.”

“You’re afraid of falling.”

“As any sane person should be.”

“Everyone falls, Tobie.”

But not everyone gets back up again.

I’m used to living life safely. I lost my mom, and Dad lost the love of his life. If life has taught me anything, it’s how fast the things you love can be taken away.

Risks are scary.

What if I take a risk and fail?

“I can’t do this, Reid.”

“You won’t know what you can do or how far you can go if you don’t give it your all. Come over here and tickle me right here.” He points at a spot under his left rib.

“Why there?”

“My big brother used to pin me, and I nearly wet myself. That’s how ticklish I am.”

But letting go of the wall is hard.

The ice is Reid’s thinking place. All I see is an expensive trip to the dentist to mend a mouthful of broken teeth.

He skates a little closer, holding both arms out. “I’m right here.”

I look at him and I can’t.

“The first time I skated, I fell and knocked out three teeth.”

I blink. “And that’s supposed to convince me to stop hugging this wall?”

He flashes me a grin. “But I got up. My brother… he was the best player in my town. I thought he was the best damn player in the world. He taught me everything I knew. I got better.”

“And your brother?”