“That’s poppy cock. Everyone skates.”
I can’t help the unsexy snort I let out at his use of “poppy cock”. I’m also helpless to stop him as he removes my sneakers and replaces them with a pair of black ice skates that I can only hope belong to him, but then that’s not entirely true. I could stop him. At any point, I could tell him to let me go, that I really don’t skate, that I’m afraid to go out on the ice. But Idon’t, because there’s something so intimate about the way Alex gently slides my shoe off my foot and adjusts my sock so that the bottom of my jeans are tucked into them. I’ve never been a foot guy, I don’t happen to find them particularly sexy. But I swear to god, my dick skips a beat when Alex’s fingers brush softly over the arch of my foot.
I bite my tongue as a shiver runs through me, and I accept my fate. Alex is putting ice skates on my feet. Alex is going to take me skating around this rink, and I’m going to let him even if I’m fairly certain I’m going to break both my knees and destroy my career in seconds.
I won’t break my knees or roll an ankle or fall on my ass, because Alex won’t allow me to. Alex will hold me up and keep me safe.
Alex is irresistible and unavailable, and this burgeoning friendship between us is running a real risk of ruining my damn life.
11
THIS IS HOW I DIE
Elliot
“This is a bad idea.”
“It’s not a bad idea.”
“I’m gonna die.”
“You’re not gonna die.”
“I’m gonna fall and break my tailbone. It’ll be a career-ending injury. I’ll never be able to kick again and you’ll have to pay the NFL back for my salary since you’re the one that injured me.”
“I…can’t say for sure, but I don’t think that’s how career-ending injuries work.”
I’m standing at the edge of the ice, holding on to the boards for dear life. The idea of getting out here and skating was all fine and dandy when there was a cute man casually undressing and caressing myfeet as he helped me out of my sneakers and into the skates. But as soon as I stood up and took the two precarious steps to get here, the feigned-turned-real fear of trying to glide around ice on knife shoes came back in full force. My knuckles are white, my hands practically numb from the force of my grip as Alex tries to coax me onto the ice like I’m a scared puppy cowering in its carrier at the vet’s office.
“Can’t I put my sneakers back on? I’ll shuffle around the ice on flat soles, that’ll be much better.”
“El, I’m a professional. I do this for a living. I promise I won’t let you fall. Give me your hands, please.”
Well, fuck. If he’s going to go and be all cute about it, what choice do I have? The thing is, I don’t know if Alex even realizes how he turns me too mush with his pouty lips and wide, amber eyes. But the man can play my emotions like a violin, and before I know it, I’m holding my breath and stepping on to the ice, my gloved hands held tight in his.
I grip his hands as tightly as I did the boards, and while I keep my feet steady, Alex glides backwards with ease, pulling us both along. The chilly air bites at my cheeks, but the heat radiating off of Alex’s body keeps me warm.
“This isn’t so bad,” I admit after a turn around therink. We slow down, and I feel Alex’s breath hot against my ear.
“It might even be better if you open your eyes, El.”
That’s when I realize I’ve had my eyes squeezed so tight this entire time, I’m almost guaranteed to have at least one new wrinkle on my forehead by the end of the day. Slowly, I blink them open to find myself standing nose to nose with Alex. People whir by on their skates, but they don’t matter as we stand there hand in hand by the boards. The last time our faces were this close, I was about to kiss Alex, and my eyes were closed. This time, I take my time drinking him in, memorizing all the little features of his face, from the bump on the bridge of his nose to the way his upper lip sticks out just the tiniest bit from the way his crooked front canine tooth sits in his mouth.
“Hey, El.”
“Hey, Goat.”
God, I could really fool myself into thinking there’s something here between us. At this moment, I could throw all my good sense, everything I know and everything I’ve learned out the window and just believe that Alex wants me. That he isn’t just the soft, sweet kitten who wants to pal around and be friends, but that he feels this surge of electricity, too. It’sstupid, so incredibly stupid, because even though I told Breaker and myself that there was no chance of me falling in love with Alex, that doesn’t mean I’m not susceptible to the lust swirling in my body.
“Wanna tell me why you’re so afraid?” he asks quietly. No judgement, no pressure, just an open ear, ready to listen.
“It’s dumb,” I shrug.
“I’m sure it's not.”
I sigh, squeezing his hands tighter. I don’t like to talk about my childhood in a negative light. We might have been poor, but at the end of the day, I was a happy kid. I prefer to live in the present, where I get to spoil my mom rotten and give back to the community that helped take care of us when we were in need. But I should know by now that I don’t stand a chance at keeping secrets from Alex.
“When I was a kid, I wanted to play hockey. I lived in Minnesota, where it’s perpetually winter and outside is just one giant ice rink. Hockey was the sport, you know? But it's so expensive and I didn’t want to put the extra pressure on my mom. So when she found the youth league sign up flyer I hid in my backpack and asked me if I wanted to play, I lied. I told her I was afraid of skating, and I played intramural peewee football instead, because the leaguewas free for low income families. So I never actually learned to skate, and eventually my lie about being afraid turned into something real. Like, if you’ve never been on a plane, you’d probably be afraid to fly, right? The older I’ve gotten, the less willing I’ve been to throw caution to the wind and try something new.”
