I like this. I likeher.
Being with her, even when I can’t do more than hold her hand. Taking care of her. Having her lean on me.
No one’s ever relied on me before.
This might not be a big deal, but I’ve never had this. My last relationship wasn’t serious. None of them have been. It worked for me when I was in high school and college because I was focused on playing hockey. Then when I traveled around without staying in one place for more than six months at a time there wasn’t a point to look for something long-term.
If I’m remaining in Heston Lake, maybe it doesn’t have to be like that anymore.
Eve’s the one I see myself opening up to about the big unsettling stuff that falls on our shoulders as we figure life out the way she has with me. Being her sounding board and listening when she talks herself in circles to explain the unimaginable amount of thoughts running through her head stirs a warm and grounded feeling wrapped around my heart.
It’s something I want to hold on to.
SEVENTEEN
EVE
February
At the endof today’s skating lesson, we have some free time left. The best way for them to practice at this stage is to get out there and skate. Cole’s racing some of the kids back and forth while I’ve slipped into some old flows from my figure skating days before I lost interest. It draws their attention, even though I’m rusty.
I flip around, gliding backwards with my arms out. When it feels good, I pop into a jump. I only manage one clean rotation, but the kids lose it.
Grinning, I keep going with an improvised routine of my favorite techniques. My muscle memory kicks in. I forgot how much fun this is. After I make a large loop, I finish off with a scratch spin, keeping my arms tucked against my body, twirling fast.
When I come out of it, I catch Cole watching me showing off.
The kids gape at me, several of them talking at once as they crowd around me.
“Whoa!”
“Where’d you learn that!”
“Well, my dad is a hockey coach. He taught me to skate when I was small like you.” I crouch beside the smallest of our students. “Then I learned figure skating because I wanted to be able to do the cool jumps.”
Cole chuckles. “You should’ve seen her. She was amazing. We’d have competitions between her and the hockey team to see who could outskate the other.”
“Who won?” a little girl asks.
“Me.”
“Eve,” he says simultaneously, meeting my eyes with a smirk. “Except forward speed. I had you beat there.”
Something nostalgic tugs at my chest, sending me back to high school.
Cole leaned against the boards, geared up for practice. He tracked me as I ran through my routine. The other players were still trickling out from the locker room while I finished off my ice time, including my brother.
I pushed myself, going for a triple instead of a double toe loop when I leapt into the air. When I landed it, I gave up on the routine, whipping my gaze to him.
“Oh my god, did you see that?”
I raced across the ice, spraying him when I stopped. He caught me against him with a charismatic smile that made me dizzy. I wished he looked at me that way because he liked me back.
Breathless, I grabbed his jersey and gave him a shake. “I landed a triple toe loop!”
“I saw,” he said. “It looked killer.”
“You don’t sound impressed. Do you know how hard it is? There’s the speed, the balance, rhythm—all while rotating in the air.”
