I hesitate, but then he flashes his goddamn puppy dog eyes at me, and I’m a goner. “You can’t laugh if I fall.”
“Promise,” he says, darting away to gather his things from the ice, and I stretch more, trying to loosen up. I’m glad I wore a tight long sleeve today, shrugging out of the cropped black vest to drop it by our bags.
I queue up the song my program was set to, passing it to Jack, who’s waiting eagerly on the side. I assume my starting position in the middle, letting muscle memory take over my movements.
I feel free, which is becoming a common theme these days, and I can’t help the wide smile on my face after I land my double axel. I haven’t let myself try for my triple, but my hope is that with more strength training and time, I’ll land it again. My smile doesn’t fade when I pop my triple toe, only rotating twice instead.
It’s messier than it should be, and I’m glad my old coach can’t see me skate now because he’d yell,Again!at me over and over.
I come to a stop, and I’m startled by the loud whistle that echoes off the walls as Dylan and Coop clap while Nate whistles again. Jack looks utterly fascinated, watching me with an expression I can only compare to awe.
“Where the fuck did you learn how to skate like that?” Dylan asks, as they all shuffle closer.
“Told you I knew how to skate,” I say, skating toward them as Jack steps back on the ice. “You’re early for morning skate,” I say, grabbing Jack’s sweatshirt from where he hung it over the boards, slipping it over my head.
Coop flashes me a quick smile. “We wanted to see what you actually do while you’re here,” he explains, and Jack chuckles.
“And?” he asks as Nate starts lacing up his skates.
“Dylan bet you two would be making out on the ice.”
Dylan’s jaw drops, and he glares at Nate. “Dude, you’re acting like you didn’t agree with me. Way to throw me under the bus.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but we actually skate out here,” I say, as Jack wraps an arm around my back. If I thought he was bad about always having some point of physical contact with me before we were together, now that we’re a couple, it’s a soothing constant reminder he’s there.
“Not everyone fucks in the living room with other people home,” Jack retorts, planting a kiss on my cheek.
“Whatever,” Dylan says, shrugging.
“I think I like seeing you in my clothes,” Jack says, lowering his voice to whisper in my ear.
I smile, laughing as I twist to look at him. “Thought you liked me better out of them?”
“I feel like there’s no right way to answer this, so I’m gonna plead the fifth,” he says, mischief shining in his pretty blue eyes. “You were fantastic, Al.”
I slip away from him, gliding backward. “It was hideous, but far more graceful than the way you all tear up the ice.”
“I think I could figure skate if I really tried,” Dylan chimes in, joining us on the ice, Coop and Nate following a moment later.
“I’d pay good money to see you fall flat on your face trying, Jones,” Nate says, and I laugh, crossing my arms over my chest, smiling at my friends and my boyfriend.
“C’mon, are we going to stand around chit chatting, or are we going to skate?” I ask, and the sound of blades scraping across the glassy surface has never sounded more like music to my ears than now.
After everything it’s taken to get to this point, I never would’ve thought I’d be calling these hockey players some of my closest friends, but I’ve never been more glad to be wrong.
Maybe some rules are meant to be broken after all.
Epilogue
My cheers drownout with the rest of the crowd going wild after Jack sinks his second goal of the night in the upper corner of the net.
The energy here is electric with it being the North Regional Semi-Finals, and if they win tonight, they’ll qualify for their second Frozen Four appearance in back-to-back years. The Wolves have worked hard this season, and many of them are having their best season yet, including Jack.
Sara is yelling, but I can’t hear her over Macy, who is cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify the sound of her own yelling before she turns to look at me and Ellie. “Dude, I love hockey.”
“Me too,” I say, and Ellie hooks her arm with mine, wearing her brother’s jersey, always his biggest supporter, no matter how boring she claims to find hockey. Sara’s pink hair is a glowing beacon on the other side of her, making it easy for the guys to find us in the sea of purple and gray filling the seats.
Dad pulls Jack off the ice for a break, and I don’t disagree with his decision considering we’re up three to nothing. It doesn’t make sense to leave Jack on the ice with hopefully theirtwo biggest games of the season coming up in the following weeks.
