“It used to be easier.”
Evan slid for the far end to gather the stones there. If he’d heard me say that, he didn’t make any indication.
“Of course it did,” Alan said, “because you weren’t living, eating, breathing, and sleeping curling. You had other things in your lives. People who didn’t curl. Places to go that weren’t an ice rink.” His hand on the back of my neck was warm and I paused, soaking the touch into my body.
“I don’t need other places to go.” I fought hard not to lean back against him. I just needed time. Decompression. “I don’t know what to do about it anymore,” I admitted as he let me go. I peeled the slider off my shoe and tucked it into my bag. “We’re never like this.”
“We really have to get you proper shoes,” he said, putting an anti-slider over his own foot as he stepped off the ice, all in one fluid motion. The man really was a work of art. Every motion was both economical and graceful, mesmerising me.
I snapped out of watching him when he put a hand on each of my biceps to move me to one side so he could reach his bag.
“It’s another one of the things,” I said. “Ev says he’ll order them but keeps forgetting. I say I’ll do it, he gets mad because to him that means I’m basically saying he’s incompetent. No.” I yanked off my rink shoes as I spoke. “I’m just on my computer all day so it’s simple for me to do. It involves a bunch of steps for him that he doesn’t normally do because he’s never online, and so it gets caught up in his head in a big tangle and he plays Minecraft instead.” I shoved my feet into my outdoor shoes. “Or takes a nap. Or makes lunch, or whatever.”
“Talkin’ about me again?” Evan asked as he slid up to us, a huge grin on his face.
“No,” I said as Alan nodded and said, “Yes.”
“Uh-oh.” His grin widened as his gaze bounced between us. “How much trouble am I in?”
“None.” Even to myself, I sounded angry.
“Pere?” His grin faded.
“Nothing,” I assured him, picking up my bag. “Ready to jet?”
“No. What’s going on?” He dropped a hand onto my forearm and I almost whimpered from his skin on mine.
“I was just… nothing, Ev. It doesn’t matter.”
“I mentioned you two getting proper shoes,” Alan said.
“Oh. Yeah.” Evan’s cheeks pinked up and I felt instantly like a jerk and heartsore as his hand dropped away. “I keep forgetting to do that.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll order them tonight when I log on. It’s fine.”
“But I should have done it a long time ago.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, a precursor to the kind of restlessness I probably wouldn’t be able to fuck out of him completely. He got to that state easier and easier these days.
“Ev, it’s fine. I can do it in less than five minutes.”
“And it would take me forever, and you’d still probably have to help.” He glared at me.
“That isn’t what I meant. I just?—”
“Let’s go,” Alan interrupted me, gripping Evan’s upper arm and nodding towards the doors with his chin. “Both of you. We need to chat.”
Talk about feeling like a chastised child.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Evan mumbled.
“No, precious, you did not,” Alan agreed, letting go of his arm, but placing a hand firmly at his back to keep him moving. “Neither did Perry. We’re going home to sort this all out.”
“Nothing to sort,” I protested, fuming at the nickname and wanting to drag Evan away from him, even as I wished some kind of nickname endearment might be tossed my way, too.
I did fall into step with them. And no, there was no sting behind my eyes when Alan took my bag as it slipped off my shoulder, put it over his own, and urged me on with the same guiding touch at my back.
“You absolutely know that is not true,” he said. “Nerves are frayed, emotions are touchy. We’re going to nip this in the bud before it starts to affect your games.”
“And what are you going to do about it?”
