“You think I look handsome?” he asks, his eyes lighting up with mischief like a Christmas tree.
I sigh, pressing the side of my forehead to the plexiglass. “Of course, that’s what you choose to focus on.”
God, he’s so infuriating.
His shoulders slump, and he leans closer, reaching out his hand and then pulling back, thinking better of it. “What can I do? How can I help?”
I pivot my forehead–now the back of my head against the glass–and sincerity shines in his eyes. I know what I want, but I hate to admit why I can’t have it. Now, how do I tell him that without making a fool of myself?
“Kaeli, please tell me what I can do to help?” My heart stutters at his words and his closeness, athow he says the word‘please’like he will fly to the moon if I ask him to. And the notion in itself is absurd. Because we hate each other, so why the hell does he affect me like this?
Relenting, I tell him, “I…umm…I need to get a couple of shots of you from up close, with me on the ice.”
Ezra searches my eyes as if trying to solve a long-hidden mystery. “Alright, let’s go on then. Grab a pair of skates your size, and we’ll get you what you need.”
I fidget, standing straighter as my shoulders tense and my grip on the camera tightens. “Yeah, there’s one problem. I can’t go on the ice.”
His voice drops an octave as he asks, “And why’s that?”
Instead of answering and admitting something I’m embarrassed about, I shrug my shoulders, looking everywhere but at him. I feel the heat of his gaze burning me.
From the periphery of my eyes, I see his glacial orbs widen for a second and go back to normal as he rubs his jaw. “Kaeli,” he begins, his voice hesitant and careful, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I feign innocence as I shake my head. “I don’tknow what you’re thinking, Ezra.”
He grabs my chin and makes me look at him. My eyes flare in surprise. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he grunts, his jaw ticking.
I try to free myself, but his grasp stays firm. Bastard. “Fine,” I grit.
The pools of his eyes trace the entirety of my face, and it’s like he can see my walls going up because the corners of his eyes and his voice soften. “Do you not know how to skate, Kaeli?”
God, it’s embarrassing.Damn it.
“I didn’t say that,” I lie, hoping my flushed skin doesn’t give me away.
It does, because he rumbles, “Don’t fuck with me, Kaeli. Just tell me.” He moves closer if that’s even possible, leaving the hockey stick to rest against the boards as he climbs inside.
His skates make him taller than he already is, causing me to crane my neck all the way back to look him in the eyes.
“Fuck, fine. No, I don’t know how to skate. Happy?” I glare at him, but it doesn’t deter him.
“Very,” he leans in, and his lips feel like a phantom touch on mine as he chirps, wearing a proud smirk like he got me to spill my deepest, darkest secret. Well, try again, buddy. You’veheard nothing yet.
One moment, his lips are just an inch away from mine as his warm breath ghosts over my face, and in the very next, he’s almost out of the players tunnel, yelling over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in a second.” While I still stand there, reeling.
“Where are you going?” I call out behind him, but he’s already gone.
I slump down on the bench as I shut my eyes and drop my head in my hands, placing my elbows on my knees for support. God, telling him was a bad idea. I bet he can’t wait to gloat and use it as ammunition to torment me.
I’m ruminating in my misery when a sudden touch to my ankles startles me. “Jesus, what the fuck?” I pull back, my eyes widen as my heart races.
“No, Jesus, just me, Feather,” Ezra scoffs from where he sits on his knees in front of me in the cramped space.
“Very funny. What are you doing, Ezra? Get up.” I clasp his shoulders in an attempt to get him to stand up, but he doesn’t budge.
When I struggle to pry my leg free and get up myself instead, his hold on my calf tightens. “Don’t move, Kaeli,” his stern voice reaches my ears.
And for some odd reason, I can’t quite decipher, I do as he asks. He holds my feet gently and extricates my shoes, his fingers gliding over my exposed ankle like a fluttering butterfly dancing to its heart’s content.
