“She’s not here. I already checked.” I shrugged.
Her brown eyes flew back to mine. “Oh my God, you’re a stalker,” she announced, slapping the table. “Areyou a stalker? Wait, why would you tell me?” She shook her head and pointed her spoon at me in accusation. “You aresoa stalker!”
My face cracked in confusion. “What? No.” I lifted my hands in innocence. “I promise I’m not. Nothing like that.” I rubbed my jaw. “Can you keep a secret?”
Eyeing me suspiciously, she shifted her chair further away from me. “Depends on what it is.”
“I amnotstalking anyone,” I said dryly, shaking my head. Taking a deep breath, I said, “The girl I’ve been in love with since I was sixteen is a figure skater on this cruise ship.”
Her face instantly melted. “Wait, that’s so romantic. Well, where is she? Does she know you’re here?”
I shook my head.
Her face fell. “You didn’t tell her? Are you a creep? You’re hot—like, a hot dad,” she interjected, “so I figured you weren’t, but that’ssonot a good indicator. Like, why am I always the worst at recognizing it?” she chastised herself. “I really need to get better at noticing—”
“No, no, no.” I backpedaled. “Well, I hope I’m not a creep.” My face faltered. “If she doesn’t want me here, I'm getting off at the next stop and flying home, I swear.” I used my index finger to cross my heart.
She grimaced. “But you didn’t tell her you were coming here?”
“I tried to text her, but I kept chickening out. Then I freaked out about it right after I got on the ship and tried to text again, but by that time I didn’t have any phone service.”
“Camila!” someone yelled across the dining hall again.
“Okay, okay,” she groaned in annoyance. She stood and started clearing dishes from the table. “Well, there’s an ice skating show tonight,” she said hurriedly. “You have to go and then report back tomorrow night. I need to know how this story ends, yeah? Or else I’ll be wondering for forever. You can’t leave me on a cliffhanger like this.”
“Okay, yeah,” I said with a grin. “I’ll try my best. Have a good night, Camila. And good luck with your surfer boy.”
She gave me an eye roll. “Good luck with your figure skater,” she said with a small grin as she sped away.
_________
It felt a little foreign to sit in the stands at a rink—if that’s what this would even be considered. The ice was practically the size of asquare postage stamp. I’d make it from one side to the other with just one stride, so I had no clue how the skaters were going to pull off jumps and lifts out there.
As soon as the lights went down, a gaggle of little girls sitting in the front row went crazy, clapping their hands together and cheering for the skaters. I grinned at their reaction, but a little homesickness took up residence in my chest. Lucy would’ve loved to be watching this show.
The back curtain lit up with the words, “Music through the Years,” which was probably their theme for the night.
When the lights finally dimmed and the music started, my leg was bouncing with nervous energy.
Each time a new skater darted onto the ice for the opening number, my heart rate spiked. But it was never Ali, and it left a swell of disappointment in my chest each time.
Three full show numbers went by without a trace of her.
The next time the lights cut out, it occurred to me that I could’ve completely fucked up and booked the wrong cruise.
But a second later, a single spotlight landed on a blond skater wearing an over-the-top fur shawl with her back to the audience, and I just knew.
The first few chords of “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” floated through the air, and I was even more sure. I only knewonegirl with the same birthmark as Marilyn Monroe, and they’d be stupid not to cast her in this role.
As soon as she turned, she knocked the breath clean out of me.
Ali strutted forward on her skates and shed her shawl on the ice, revealing a sparkly gold dress and fishnet tights. Her hair, which was once long and dirty blonde, was highlighted, cut short, and curled for the show.
And damn, that wasn’t the only way she’d changed. She looked vastly different from the last time I saw her, which was a very good thing. Instead of a bruised, tear-streaked face, she now glowed with shimmery makeup and sassiness.
As she skated, it was easy to pick out that she still had the same graceful stride and muscular legs that allowed her to land each jump with triumph. And she still looked like liquid on the ice, flowing into each element with ease. But there was now an added element of sexiness to the way she skated. It was subtle, but it was there. The way she moved her hips, the way she looked over her shoulder at thecrowd. She had an added confidence to her movements that made her even more attractive.
Damn.
