Page 5 of Date With Skates

She wasn’t having a good day, so her response was, “That’s nice, dear.”

It nearly broke my heart, because if this were a year ago, she’d probably cry happy tears. How do you forget the things you love? It’s so hard to comprehend.

We stay by the boards to watch Nico as he skates around because Roman is fixated.

“He’s Canada’s number one figure skater. He’s from Montreal and has been skating since he was three. Everyone knew from the first day he put on skates that he’d be a star.”

And he is. Putting on a flawless performance, even in practice.

I expect nothing less from him.

What I don’t expect is to see Roman Callahan drooling over him.

“Hello?” I give Roman a little shove.

“Huh? What?”

“Dude, you’re drooling.”

He wipes his chin, making me laugh. I didn’t mean literally, but I can see the way his eyes are glued to Nico.

“Did you hear anything I said?” I ask.

“No.”

I huff an annoyed sound, and repeat what I said, only I don’t get it all out before he’s interrupting me.

“How do you know this?”

“Because my mom is obsessed with him,” I say.

His gaze goes back to the ice like a magnet.

Usually when I bring her up, in any capacity, he asks how she’s doing. I don’t take offense to him not asking now.

“How old is he?” he asks.

I almost tell him he’s fifteen, but that’s not really something you joke about, so I give him the straight answer.

“Twenty-one.”

Roman’s gaze follows Nico around like a hawk. It’s intense.

“Are you having a stroke? What the fuck is going on with you?” I shove him again.

“I’m just watching. He’s good.”

“No shit, he’s good,” I say, but I know he’s not listening again. “I’m going to find someone who works here. Meet me outside when he’s done.” I wait a moment to see if he’s going to acknowledge me. He doesn’t. So I leave him and head up the steps to the offices. I know I saw people walking around, and I want to know how to get tickets because obviously Roman is going to watch this guy. I guess I kind of want to too. He’s talented as hell, and I may never get another chance to see him perform live. My schedule is too busy.

Though I saw people walking around earlier, I don’t see anyone up here now, so I head outside to wait for Roman. He should be out here any minute. I pace back and forth, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets because it’s cold. A few people pass me and say hello. I recognize only one of them.

There are so many people here it’s crazy. But I love it. I can’t believe I’m here, being given the chance to win a gold medal. Holy shit, it’s nuts.

I don’t know how long I’m waiting outside for, but when my balls start to feel like snowballs despite the sun, I head inside to see what the hell Roman is doing.

“Hey, Roman!” I call out as I walk toward the rink and spot him. “What the hell? I thought you were meeting me outside?” I say to him. Then I do a double take when I see who he’s talking to. “Hey, you’re Nico Laurent.”

“In the flesh,” he responds, giving a showy bow. “And you are…”