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“I have my son with me here.” I’m panting out the words and Zayn’s eyes move toward me. My anxiety is sparking with every word, and it’s making things worse. I don’t know how to do this with Ciaran. “We seem to be having a difference of opinions.”
“Hold on.”
The phone has been at my ear, and I pull it away to see that he’s requesting a video call. Double fuck. I know I look terrible today. My hair is up in a messy bun, I’m wearing an oversized off the shoulder shirt and leggings with my compression socks, and this is the worst time for a video call.
Still, I accept it, lips pursed.
“I see.” He takes a long look at me before nodding. Ciaran draws himself up as if shoring up his energy to go to war, and I suppose in a way, he is. Zayn can verbally spar with the best of them. “I can talk to him if you’d like.”
I angle the phone toward Zayn and my son scoots over to keep us both in frame.
“Mom, is Arran coming over because you don’t feel good?” he asks worriedly. “Nevermind, I don’t want your head to hurt. I’m asking a lot of questions.”
“My head is fine, thank you.” I stick my lolly back in my mouth, biting it off so it’ll melt on my tongue. “Zayn, this is Ciaran. I can assure you that he’s a much better skater than I am.”
Ciaran snorts, raking his hand through his blue curls. It appears as if he’s sitting on a couch, and I can see someone else that I don’t recognize near him.
“Look, Zayn. I can tell your mom isn’t feeling a hundred percent right now. Let’s work together to figure this out, okay? She is a really good skater. She can do fancy stuff, but my friends and I would really like to hang out and teach you what we know. Our skates are different from hers. She’s told us a lot about you, and it would mean a lot to us to get to know you.”
“You know my mommy,” Zayn says suspiciously. “She has a boyfriend, ya know.”
“Zayn,” I groan. “Honey, really.”
“What? It’s true. You’re all mushy together.”
Zayn makes a face while Ciaran gazes at him softly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before.
“Your mom is really pretty, but that’s adult stuff. Right now, skating is between you and me. We can teach you about hockey if you want too. There are studies that suggest ice skating develops a child’s mind by sharpening focus, boosting cognitive processing, and strengthening the brain’s sensory and balance systems.
“You know, in case you thought hockey didn’t happen to make you smarter. You’re about the right age for it. We may need to meet more than once a week though….”
“Ciaran,” I hiss, feeling the tides shift as he smiles.
“Mom said you were very busy,” Zayn says primly, hearing the warning in my voice.
“We may need to cycle out who comes up for the second class every week,” Ciaran says, his eyes moving between us. “Do you like your mom’s boyfriend?”
“Don’t change the subject,” Zayn says, picking up a crayon and picking at the paper wrapping it. I hate when he does that, but I can recognize a nervous habit when I see one. “I didn’t say yes.”
“What will it take for you to say yes?” Ciaran asks, his eyes narrowing. “Ice skating as a whole interests you, but is it the fact that we’re strangers?”
“Teachers are only strangers until they’re not,” Zayn mutters, sighing. “I’d rather do things with her.”
“Heavy physical activity and I aren’t friends,” I remind him. “Ice skating is usually safe for me as long as I’m moving. Once you’ve learned how, we can go together. What’s really going on?”
“I don’t like to leave you,” he complains.
“I’ll be at practice,” I say. “I go to swim class, don’t I?”
“Yes…”
“How do you feel about a trial run?” Ciaran asks. “Two classes and you can decide if we suck as teachers or not.”
“Language,” I say, though Zayn’s heard worse from my family.
“Two classes and no funny business. I don’t like the way you look at her.”
It’s then that I realize my son has a problem with the guys being male instructors. He was mildly interested up until then. Huh.
