“Evidence suggests otherwise.”
“One more try.”
I sigh. “Fine. One more. But if you hurt yourself, I’m leaving you here.”
He takes off. This time he’s not building as much speed. Being more careful.
He jumps.
Gets around.
And somehow, impossibly, stays on his feet.
It’s ugly. The landing is shaky and he has to fight for balance. But technically, he made the rotation.
The small crowd applauds. Rodriguez pumps his fist like he just won the Stanley Cup.
He skates over, triumphant. “I did it.”
“That was the ugliest jump I’ve ever seen.”
“But I landed it. Which means you owe me a kiss.”
“I really hate that you actually pulled that off.”
“No you don’t.” He takes my face in both hands, still breathing hard. “You love it.”
And he’s right. I do love it. Love that he tried five times just to win a stupid bet. Love that he doesn’t care that everyone’s watching him fail.
He kisses me right there on the ice, in front of the crowd that watched him wipe out five times.
Soft and sweet and tasting slightly like the peppermint chapstick he’s been wearing.
When he pulls back, he’s smiling. “Happy Valentine’s Day, JuJu.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
We skate for another hour. Just circling the rink, holding hands, occasionally racing. He tries to teach me how to stop like a hockey player. I show him basic ballet positions. He lifts me and spins us around until we’re both dizzy and laughing.
The sun starts to sink lower, the light going golden. The city lights flickering on.
“We should probably go,” I say reluctantly. “We need to shower and change before the rehearsal.”
“Five more minutes.”
“Rodriguez—”
“Please. Five more minutes.” His arms are around my waist from behind, his chin on my shoulder. “I want to remember this exactly how it is right now.”
So we stay. Five more minutes that turns into ten, skating slowly, not talking, just existing together while Toronto at nighttime lights around us.
And somewhere between the Hockey Hall of Fame and this moment right now, I’ve realized I’m not scared to try this with him.
I’m still terrified. Still worried about Monday. Still don’t know how this works when we go back to real life.
But I’m not running anymore.
I’m all in too.
