27
Andy
“It’s all right,it’s all right, I’ve got you,” Kit soothed, shoving his shoulder under mine and hauling me over to the edge of the ice rink, heaving me up to sit on it.
My breath fogged in front of me, the last of the afternoon sunlight already failing and the air chilling fast.
Of course I’d managed to twist my ankle and fall on my ass in front of my hot boyfriend who skated like he’d been born to do it.
On our very first real date back home.
“Poor Andy,” Kit murmured, stepping between my knees and holding me by the waist. “Does it hurt very much?”
“Mostly in my pride,” I sniffed, rolling the ankle I’d twisted as I crashed into the ice to test it. Stiff, but not badly injured. “I need to take these skates off before I get stuck in them, though.”
Kit dropped down immediately, crouching in front of me and tugging at the laces.
I breathed a sigh of relief once my ankle had some room to move, the swelling much less painful now that nothing was pressing against it.
“Got you on your knees again,” I said, grinning down at Kit.
I loved him so goddamn much.
I didn’t love that I was ruining our perfect date, though.
“Yes, well, the trick will be getting me back off them,” Kit smiled wryly. “I’m not eighteen anymore, as it turns out.”
“Eighteen?” I asked, holding a hand out to help him up.
A little spark of happiness warmed me from the inside as my fingers brushed against the friendship bracelet I’d given him for Christmas.
Halfway through January, and he still only took it off to shower. He’d gone to important business meetings wearing it. He’d sat and fiddled with it while we drank coffee and held hands over the coffee shop table.
It’d brushed against me in assorted intimate places more times than I could count.
Kit groaned as he levered himself off the ice again, using me as a counterweight. “The last time I went ice skating,” Kit said.
“Oh.” I licked my lips. “I was nine.”
Kit snorted. “Ah, I see where my advantage comes from. You are most certainly not nine anymore,” he said, one hand going to my hip, the other tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Whatever made you invite me ice skating, then?”
I caught Kit’s hand as he lowered it from my hair..
“Before you even asked me to go to England with you, I had this fantasy,” I said, toying with his fingers. “That we’d go ice skating in Central Park, and then we’d be cold on the way home, so we’d have to walk real close together, with our hands in each other’s coat pockets.”
“Oh yes?” Kit asked, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah. We were gonna snuggle up together on the subway and grab donuts from that little place, you know the one, on the corner? To warm us up while we walked the rest of the way. And there’d be powdered sugar on my nose and you’d lick it off while I went through your pockets for your keys.”
“Instead of simply going through your own pockets for yours?” Kit raised an eyebrow.
“Shh, it’s a fantasy,” I said. “Anyway, then we’d go inside and make out while we waited for the heating to warm the place up enough to tear each other’s clothes off. Then marathon sex, I guess.”
“Ah, that part makes rather more sense to me.” Kit grinned. “But the rest of it is very sweet. I’m still not clear on where the ice skating comes into it.”
“In this fantasy, I remember how to do it,” I admitted, heat rushing to my cheeks.
Kit made a sympathetic noise and kissed the tip of my nose. “Do you know I love you?”
