Three days later.
The team family skate is Marnie’s idea.
“End of season tradition,” she explains as we walk into the facility together. “Before playoffs start and everyone gets too stressed to remember they actually like each other. Partners and kids are invited. It’s very wholesome.”
“Wholesome,” I repeat skeptically.
“Okay, it usually devolves into the guys showing off for their significant others and at least one person ends up in the boards. But it starts wholesome.”
The rink is already crowded when we arrive. Kids skating in wobbly circles. Partners chatting in groups. The team scattered across the ice in various states of actually skating versus standing around talking.
And I’m wearing my new blades for the first time.
They feel likecoming home.
Romeo sees me immediately and skates over.
“How do they feel?”
“Like magic.” I push off quickly, testing the edges. They bite into the ice perfectly. “Your guy wasn’t kidding. These are better than the originals.”
“Good.” He’s watching me with this dopey look on his face. “Skate for me?”
“Romeo, I haven’t done a program in months?—”
“I don’t care about a program. I just want to see you skate the way you love to skate. No teaching. No holding back. Just you.”
I look at him. At the genuine request in his eyes, at the way he’s asking me to share this part of myself. And I want to. I actually want to.
“Okay.”
I skate to the center of the ice and take a breath. Close my eyes. Let muscle memory take over.
It’s not a full program. Just elements strung together. A spiral sequence that stretches my flexibility. A combination spin that would have been impressive six months ago but is probably sloppy now. Footwork that makes the new blades sing.
When I open my eyes, half the team is watching.
Romeo is leaning on the boards with his arms crossed and a smile on his face that makes me feel like I just won Olympic gold.
I skate over to him, slightly breathless, probably blushing.
“Rusty,” I say.
“Beautiful,” he corrects. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you skate.”
“I’m out of practice.”
“You’re perfect.” He reaches over and pulls me closer. “Thank you for letting me see that.”
“Thank you for giving me a reason to do it again.”
We’re having a moment, a real, genuine moment in the middle of this crowded rink, when Goldie appears beside me with Mackie in tow.
“Okay, that was incredible,” Goldie says. “Please tell me you’ll give me lessons. I would pay actual money to learn to spin like that.”
“The secret is years of practice and probable inner ear damage,” I say dryly.
“Worth it.” She links her arm through mine. “Come on. Elliot is trying to teach Chloe how to skate backwards and it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
