Just those few words broke the tension and got me out of my head.
My eyebrow arched. “Oh, you think you can beat me?”
“I don’t think so. I know so.” His face turned serious.
I shook my head. “Wow. You do know I basically grew up on the ice, right?”
“So did I.”
My inner competitiveness reared its head at the glint in Mateo’s eyes. With a quick glance over his shoulder, I measured how far away the wall was. When I met his eyes again, I smirked.
“Okay.” I pushed off my toe pick, vaulting to the side of him, and tore down the ice.
“Oh, you play dirty,” Mateo called out from behind. I didn’t dare glance behind me, too focused on the wall ahead.
The sound of skates meeting ice met my ears seconds before his figure blew past me. I gaped at his back as his long, muscular legs ate up the distance within seconds. My legs slowed since I had zero chance of making it to the board before him.
“Any day now,” he called, leaning back against the boards, a smirk clear as day on his face.
I purposely sprayed ice on his legs as I stopped.
“How did you get here so fast?” I asked, bewildered. And here I thought I was fast on ice skates.
“Hockey.” He said it with a shrug. “Hockey players are faster.”
Placing my hands on my hips, I leveled him with a look. “Are you implying hockey players are better on the ice than figure skaters?”
“I mean…”
I resisted the urge to punch his arm. “Okay, prove it.”
“But I’m not a hockey player, remember?”
“You clearly know hockey so let's put it to the test. Let's see if you can do what figure skaters do, and I’ll see if I can do what hockey players do,” I challenged.
He crossed his arms as he thought over my challenge. “What decides the winner?”
“Whoever does the most between the two,” I suggested. For two competitive people, therehadto be a winner.
“Actually, the more important question is, when I win, what do I get?”
“So sure of yourself.” I shook my head in mock outrage, hands on my hips.
He pushed off the wall and circled me. I stayed still, eyes forward while I tried to act unaffected. When his warm breath fanned against my neck, I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down my spine.
“One thing about me is,” his voice was low and smooth like honey, “I don’t like to lose. And I rarely do.”
Any sort of response got stuck in my throat. The way he said it, like a promise, sent a jolt through my chest down to my toes.
“We’ll see,” was all I could come up with. Inwardly, I cringed at myself. Who knew one simple sentence from him would turn my insides to goo.What the hell, Emmie?
“We can decide what the winner gets later.” Mateo had an ear-splitting grin on his face. Like he could see the effect his words had on me.
I mentally shook my head and cleared my throat. “What should we do first?”
“Show me what kind of moves you got.”
“I’ll start with baby stuff. Wouldn’t want to overdo it for you.” I made a show of looking him up and down.
