“I’m pretty sure for an ice skating date, you’re supposed to skate,” she says when we part.
“I’m good with this.”
“If you want another kiss, you’ll have to come and get me.”
She pushes away, keeping just out of reach when I follow her.
My brows lift at the challenge. “Is that so? You know you’re asking an NHL draft prospect to chase you, right?”
The prospect rankings won’t be released until next month, but I’ve seen sports blogs talking about my plays this season. After each game we have more sports journalists wanting to talk to us. This time I know my name will be on that list.
She grins. “I dare you.”
“Oh, baby. When are you gonna learn?”
I keep my speed slow and easy while she skates off. When she has a far enough lead, I fly across the ice to close the distance between us. I scrape to a stop with inches to spare, using the slowed momentum to wrap her in my arms smoothly.
“I’ll never stop chasing you.” I tip her chin up for a kiss. “And I’ll always catch you.”
“That’s one,” she whispers.
I let her escape my grasp, eager to chase her down and capture her again and again. She hides behind giggling kids using the penguin aids for balance, weaving through the bustling rink.
By the fourth time I catch her, she knows she doesn’t stand a chance against me on the ice. I pin her against the boards separating the rink from the frozen lake to kiss her until we’re both dizzy. We rest our foreheads together, our thick warm breaths fanning our mouths.
When our game stops, we join the general flow of other people circling the outdoor rink.
After several loops of easy skating, the wind picks up. She typically doesn’t mind the cold, but the biting February chill cuts through our layers, making both of us shiver.
“Want some hot chocolate?”
“Yeah, I could use something to warm up.”
I glide closer and take her by the hips, muttering low words meant only for her. “I know how to warm you up.”
“Shh.” She covers her laughter with a hand. “Save it for later.”
“Come on.”
Holding her hand, I lead us to the cabin-style hut. It has a rough-hewn wooden bar open to the rink for skaters to take a break. I order drinks for us, adding on a cone of waffle fries because I know she’ll want them.
Once we have our food, we move to an open spot at the end of the wooden counter where it’s quieter. She digs into her fries, trying to eat them even though they’re freshly made.
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m okay. They’re too good to wait for them to cool down.”
“You have ketchup. Here.” Warmth spreads through me when I thumb it away from the corner of her mouth.
She murmurs a thank you, then moves closer to lean against me. I rub her back, sipping my hot chocolate while we take in the beautiful view of the lake.
“Thanks for today. I haven’t done this in forever,” she says.
“It’s nice to get on the ice for fun. Brings me back to the reasons I fell in love with it when I was a kid.” Nostalgia washes over me. “The first time my dad put a pair of skates on me, it changed my world.”
“You skate like you belong on the ice. I can’t imagine you doing anything else.”
I huff, raising my eyes to the sky. “He used to say that, too. You would’ve liked him.”
