I’ve just finished with my last client of the day, and Radek is supposed to be showing up in half an hour for a training session when my phone starts to buzz with a call.
“Love of my life,” Logan says, “can you meet me at the arena in thirty minutes?” There’s a buoyancy to his voice that immediately lifts my spirits.
“Radek’s coming for a session. Can I meet you a bit later?”
Logan’s phone is muffled for a minute.
“I’m going to have to cancel,” Radek says into Logan’s phone. “Something has come up.”
I can’t help a little laugh. “Okay.”
“The arena?” Logan says. “Thirty minutes?”
“Are you all practicing?” I ask.
Logan sighs. “Doc, can you be here in thirty minutes?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll tell you everything in person.”
Then he’s gone before I get a chance to ask any more questions.
When I arrive, there’s only one car in the parking lot—Logan’s. At the door, I’m surprised to find it unlocked, but there’s likely still security or a cleaning crew somewhere in the building.
“Logan?” I call into the empty arena.
“Hey!” He pops up behind the team bench. “Come here.”
I make my way down the stairs and to the secret side door of the bench. It’s unlocked, and I let myself in where Logan’s lacing up skates.
“I came to watch you skate?” I ask in disbelief.
“I haven’t seen you in two days, so I needed to see your face.” He rises and gives me a quick kiss. “And it’s about time you learned how to skate.”
“Oh no,” I say with a laugh. “I have two left feet on skates.”
Logan holds up the skates he has beside him. “Shame. These are a left and right.”
“Very funny.”
“Come on,” he says, indicating that I need to sit down. “I’ll lace you up.”
“Who’s going to be my physiotherapist when I break on the ice?”
“Me,” he says, glancing at me while his fingers make quick work of the laces. “I’m the one who takes care of you. Which also means you’re not going to break yourself on the ice. I’ll keep you out of harm’s way. Maybe you haven’t heard, but I’m pretty good on skates.”
“I heard you need a stick in your hands to be effective.”
“Iamgood with my stick.” He winks at me.
“You’re in a very good mood,” I say as he laces my second skate.
“I am,” he agrees. “I love winning.”
Hope rises into my throat, but since he didn’t tell me what winning would look like, it’s hard to gauge how excited I should be. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Once we’re on the ice. It’s important that you learn how to skate.”
