“I love you,” I tell him.
“I love you too, Jacky,” he says against my lips. “For real this time.”
Drew - Two weeks later
Spinfinity Roller Rinkhits different when you’re not pretending anymore.
I grip Jackson’s hand as we glide around the rink, our matching purple spandex catching every flash of pink and blue from the lights bouncing off the disco ball overhead. The familiar smell of popcorn and floor wax wraps around us, and I can’t help but grin at the way Jackson’s eyes light up.
“Back where it all started,” he says, squeezing my fingers.
“Technically, it started at the Polar Bear Plunge,” I correct him. “This is where I dry humped you in a bathroom stall.”
“Drew!” His ears go pink, and God, I will never get tired of making that happen.
Gerard rockets past us on his skates, a blur of hot pink spandex that burns our retinas. His ass cheeks ripple as he whizzes around the rink, and somewhere behind us, a group of freshmen audibly gasp.
“Best day ever!” Gerard bellows, executing a spin that makes his package do alarming things. “Team bonding on wheels!”
Elliot follows at a much more reasonable pace, his black spandex somehow making him even smaller next to his Viking boyfriend. He’s wearing his glasses and a scowl, which means he’s having the time of his life. “If Gerard’s cock gets hard one more time,” he mutters as he passes us, “I’m filing for divorce.”
“You’re not married,” I point out.
“Yet,” he says ominously, and disappears into the crowd.
Jackson’s hand stays in mine as we weave between other skaters, and every brush of his shoulder against mine sends warmth flooding through my chest. We’re better at this now, more comfortable in our skin and with each other.
Kyle appears in his newly bought red spandex that stretches over corded thigh muscles. “Monroe,” he grunts.
“Kyle,” Jackson responds with equal gravity.
They stare at each other for a long moment, and I watch the silent communication pass between them with fascination.
“Your ass identification skills were impressive,” Kyle finally says. “Respectable.”
“High praise,” I whisper to Jackson.
“Shut up, Larney.” Kyle’s eyes narrow at our joined hands. “If you hurt him, I’ll end you.”
“Noted.” I give him my most sincere nod. “If I hurt him, I’ll help you end me.”
Kyle grunts again, apparently satisfied, and skates off to terrorize someone else.
Nathan wobbles past us, his green spandex wrapped around an ass that I’ve never noticed is as round as it is.
“Looking good, Paisley!” I call out. “You’ve been doing your squats, I see.”
Nathan’s body jerks, wheels shooting in opposite directions as his arms windmill frantically to keep from eating hardwood. “Thanks! Gerard’s been teaching me!” He wobbles away toward the safety of the wall.
The DJ booth crackles, and the current techno song fades out. For a moment, there’s just the sound of wheels on wood and laughter echoing off the walls. The magical noise of a roller rink on a Saturday afternoon. Then the opening synthesizer hits, and my entire body lights up.
I know this song. I know it in my bones, in my blood, in every stupid romantic gesture I’ve ever been too afraid to make. The keyboard builds, drums kick in, and Huey Lewis’s voice fills the rink with words about the power of love being a curious thing.
“Oh no,” Jackson says, recognizing the gleam in my eye.
“Oh yes.”
I release his hand and skate backward, never breaking eye contact. The crowd around us starts to notice something is happening as I build momentum.
