I tie up my nicely broken in skates I’ve had since the twelfth grade and then bend down to help Willow tie hers.
“I’ve got it,” she says curtly. Making it quite clear that she wants us to remain at a respectable distance.
I’m finding it harder to maintain appropriate boundaries with her. I have the urge to touch her, take care of her, to be physically close to her. It’s all I think about. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since the first day we met.
“Okay.”
I wait patiently while she finishes wrapping the laces around her ankles like a pro. She’s done this before and it was stupid of me to assume she hasn’t.
“I’m from New York,” she says as she catches my expression. “We all ice skate in New York.”
“I didn’t say a thing.”
“You didn’t have to. You seem to think I’m just a mono focused type of girl, Jackson, but I’ve got layers. Let’s go.”
It surprises me at first when she calls me Jackson. No one in my world as Freak the phenom calls me by my first name, at least no one has in a really long time.
I like it.
It’s who I am when I’m not on the football field.
It appears as if every plan I come up with when it comes to Willow falls apart. I thought this was going to be a few hours of me helping her get acclimated to the ice, but it isn’t that at all. She’s freaking skating backwards like a figure skating champion without missing a beat. It’s hypnotizing, watching her glide across the ice like an ice ballerina.
A very sexy one.
And now it’s time for the couples skate.
The announcer clears the rink and plays the next song for a couple-only skate. This time Willow has no choice but to grab my hand as she continues to skate backwards, but I guide the tempo, gliding us forward to the rhythmic melody of Levitating by Dua Lipa.
It may be a little corny, but I sing the song loud enough for her to hear and she laughs when I do. I love it when Willow laughs, and it’s even better when I’m the one who’s responsible for it.
“You like Dua Lipa?” she asks, surprised.
“I do.”
“Okay, so do you prefer 1980s or 90s music?”
“90s.”
“I like 80s. My mom always played a lot of Whitney Houston. Okay, how about Cheers or Frazier?”
“Only someone who stays up late would have an answer for that one. I choose Cheers.”
“Ha, I love Frazier. Do you like holidays?”
“Of course.”
“What’s your favorite one?”
“Halloween. What’s yours?”
“Christmas.”
“Have you ever been in love?” I ask her, taking her completely off guard.
“Your candor never ceases to surprise me.”
“That’s another one of my endearing qualities.”
