“You do knowyou don’t have to come with me every time I skate, right?” I ask, turning to look at Jack as he skates next to me. I’m trying to be more conscious of his sleep schedule since he’s still crashing at our place most nights, rarely swapping with Dylan or Coop, but now he’s spending them in my bed instead of the couch. I don’t want Jack to get sick again, but he’s also a grown adult. I can’t tell him what to do, especially when I don’t want him to tell me what to do.
“I know I don’t have to,” Jack says, the corner of his mouth curving into a smile. “Maybe I like skating with you.”
“You’re the one who has morning skate in thirty minutes and off-ice training again this afternoon,” I remind him, but I like that he comes with me. Some days we don’t even talk. I’ll put in my headphones and build my endurance back up, and Jack will work on his shots, skating through solo drills. We’ve even ended up at the gym a few times, but Jack spends the entire time staring at my ass, so skating is far more productive.
Then there are the mornings like now where he skates with me, and we just talk.
Jack flips around to skate backward with ease, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats. “I’m aware, but I’d spend my whole day out here if I could.”
“You wouldn’t get sick of it?” I ask, curious to know more about how Jack got into skating in the first place. I feel like I still have major gaps in what I know about him.
“Never. When I was a kid, it was the one place my dad wouldn’t go. It was safe for Momma and me, and I could just be a kid. Didn’t take long to realize I was good at it,” he says, winking at me, as if needing to offset what he shared.
Now I’m even more curious to know the story with his dad. His mom and I talked a little during the game about what Jack was like while growing up, but his dad was never mentioned. It feels like wishful thinking to hope the necklace Jack wears once belonged to his mom, instead of the alternative being a girl who broke his heart.
“Why wouldn’t he go to the rink?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Texas is football country. I could throw and catch a ball, but I didn’t care for it. I didn’t want to because it was something he wanted for me, but I’ve loved skating from the first time Momma took me. He didn’t like that I was into something she showed me, and it became our sanctuary,” he says, and it sounds familiar, but I think I’m just projecting my experience, trying to fit it into the blank puzzle of Jack’s past.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to ever apologize for him. He wasn’t a good guy,” Jack says, his tone firm, but leaving so much unsaid.
“You’re nothing like him. I know I don’t know him, but you’re one of the best people I know,” I say, hoping he knows how much I mean it.
He smiles at me, but it doesn’t meet his eyes, feeling more like he’s just appeasing me. “Thanks, Al.”
I drag my skate behind the other, coming to a short stop, placing my hands on my hips. “No, I mean it, Jack. You’ve been a great friend to me.” Jack moves to stop in front of me, close enough for me to reach out and touch him. I tilt my head up at him, meeting his gaze directly because there’s no hesitation. “You’re someone I trust and genuinely enjoy spending time with.”
Jack makes the first move, reaching to tuck a few stray curls that have escaped from my bun behind my ear. “I feel safe around you,” I continue, watching as Jack’s blue eyes glisten, and he leans to press his lips to my forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling away.
“I’m glad,” Jack says softly. He clears his throat a moment later, dropping his hands from me when the only thing I want him to do is kiss me senselessly. “We probably have time for a few more laps before you should get going.”
I push off, gliding fast around the corner, and Jack keeps pace with me, staying at my side.
I know I should be getting ready to leave, but I’m not ready yet. I love being out here. When I look at Jack again, he’s smiling at me. “What?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs, his dimple winking at me.
“You just look happy.”
“Because I am. There’s nothing like being on the ice. I think you’re right about wanting to stay out here forever,” I reply, redoing the bun my curls are tamed into in an attempt to keep them off my shoulders.
Jack frowns, despite the fact I just told him he was right, skating closer to invade my personal space. I can’t even pretend to mind. Being near him has become second nature, and I crave any moment I can spend with him. “You should leave your hair down. You always have it up.”
I raise an eyebrow at him as he reaches to unravel it, and I let him because I’m curious to see what he’ll do next. My chest hitches when his rough fingertips dance along the back of my neck, and of course he notices, his sinful lips quirking upward into a slanted smirk.
“You okay there, darlin’?” Jack asks, and I nod.
“Perfectly fine. Why do you like my hair down?” I ask, playing dumb. I know why he likes it down, but I want to hear him say it.I also want him to kiss me.
Jack combs his fingers through my loose curls, taking advantage of the opportunity to touch me. “Because I like tangling my hand in it when I kiss you.”
I lift my head up, doing my best to frown so I don’t show him how much his words and touch affect me. Jack’s attention drops to my mouth, a hunger flickering in his handsome features as my desperation for him to kiss me grows. The air around us is buzzing with electricity, waiting for one of us to make the first move. I can’t get enough of him. “Who says I want you to kiss me?” I ask, resting my hand onto his solid chest, the soft material of his sweatshirt begging me to steal it from him later.
“Everything about you says it,” he says, his voice smooth like silk, gently tugging the ends of my hair back to tilt my head up as his other hand slides around my lower back, pulling me flush to him. I hold my breath for a moment, taking my time to drape my other arm around his shoulders, dragging my fingers through the short strands of his chestnut hair at the back of his neck.
What is Jack waiting for?
“Are you going to kiss me or not?” I finally ask, fed up with this particular game, and after what feels like an eternity, Jack grazes his lips over mine.
