He glances over and smiles at me. “What else would our second-best date be but what you enjoy doing most?”
“But I didn't bring my skates.”
He reaches over the back seat and retrieves a familiar teal box for the brand of skates I prefer.
“A gift for you,” he smiles, popping that cursed dimple.
I open it to find not only my favorite brand of performance skates, but my exact size.
“How did you know?”
“That last post-competition interview you did in Oslo, Norway, a sports journalist asked.”
I remember the petite blonde reporter who had admired my skates and asked about the brand and size. Still on a high from making the podium finish, I'd gushed that it was my favorite brand.
“See,” Bash brags as he points to the box, “I pay attention to you, Amelia.”
His words cause a sharp pang in my chest as my thoughts shift to Jaxson.Does Jaxson still pay attention to me? Or am I as long forgotten by him as I appear to be? Why do I even think about him?
I turn and head to the bench next to the pond just as a lone tear tracks down my cheek. I swiftly wipe it away and chide myself for letting Jaxson intrude on such a lovely day.
Sitting down, I put on my new skates and notice that my name is embroidered on the side in my favorite color of pink. Tracing my finger across it, I glance at Bash, who is busy putting his skates on, and I wonder at how in tune he is with me in such a short time.Does he know pink is my favorite color? What else does he know about me?
I hesitate for a moment before asking, “Why do you call me Amelia instead of trying to shorten it to anickname like Ja… like everyone else?” Jaxson's the one who shortened my name, and now everyone knows me as Melly.
He looks up with soft eyes and a sly smile. “Because Amelia, your name is unique and beautiful, just like you.” He turns back to his skates, pulling his pants legs down as he stands. "Besides, my nickname for you is Firebird, and don't forget it."
I smile at him, feeling more seen and appreciated than ever. Aside from that fleeting kiss, he's never given me a reason to worry about anything inappropriate. Always a perfect gentleman. It feels empowering to be more than just an object to slake someone's lust.
The next few hours glide by on the ice. Bash and I decide to choreograph a dance routine, syncing our movements to the playlist he queues up. We blend our individual styles and movements into a seamless performance. He proves to be a surprisingly graceful skater, matching me move for move and adding his own artistry. Together, we craft something sensual and perfectly ours.
Later, as Bash drops me off at the diner where I left my car, I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
He smiles down at me. “What was that for?”
“Everything,” I breathe softly. “For a great time and a beautiful pair of skates. Thank you. You're really something, Bash.”
As I turn and get in my car, I hear him whisper. “You are, too, Firebird. I'll make sure you know it soon.”
