Chapter 33 We Can’t Lose
Everett
Since this morning, today has felt like it’s running away from me. I have no idea where the time has gone, and I can’t shake the feeling that I fucked up when I told Claire how I was feeling.
When we got to town, we were stopped no less than half a dozen times by people wanting to catch up and see how we were doing.
We opted to have brunch at Stella’s, but it was very crowded and the service was extremely slow, probably because Ruth couldn’t help but gossip with us and everyone else about some big development with Chip and Lolly and what that could mean for their blossoming romance.
After we left the diner, we were stopped some more and cornered by Rusty, Ginger’s husband, who was asking for advice on how to help the boys train for hockey.
Claire mostly just smiled and nodded along with everyone, but other than some small talk here and there, she’s been quiet since we left the house. I wish she would talk to me, let me inside her head, but I also don’t want to prod too hard and risk pushing her away.
I realize admitting that I’m falling in love with her after a few short days probably sounded crazy, but the opportunity to tell her how I was feeling presented itself, and I couldn’t imagine saying anything else, even if she doesn’t feel the same way about me.
Looking down at my watch, I exhale. Today was supposed to go so differently. It’s after three, and all I’ve managed to do is scare her away from me.
Walking together toward the rink, we find a nearby bench, and I lace up my skates. Glancing over at Claire, I find she’s staring off into space, still wearing her boots.
“Need help with your skates?” I offer.
“Sure,” she says, moving the pair of ice skates we found at the house into my reach, but continuing to look off into the distance.
Kneeling before her, I carefully remove her boot and hold the skate steady as she pushes her foot inside.
I take my time lacing them, then move to the other, completing the same steps.
I help her stand, and we step on to the slick surface together. Her legs wobble a little, and she lets out a nervous giggle as I grab both of her hands.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask. “You’ve been nearly silent all day. If I fucked up this morning, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” she questions, finding my eyes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to say all of that back at the house, and I let my fears kind of take over, and then we came to town, and this is the first time all day that I’ve felt like we’re alone.”
“What fears?”
“If I’m honest, I feel myself beginning to fall for you too…”
My heart leaps in my chest. Damn, that feels good to hear.
“But…”
Fuck, of course there’s a but.
“Um,” she continues. “I keep finding myself wondering if the events here are actually real. Like what if you think you’re falling in love with me, but it’s because you’re under some sort of spell. What if this is all just a dream, and tomorrow we wake up with no memory of this place?”
“Then I hope I never wake up, Sugar.”
“You don’t mean that,” she says.
“In some ways I do. I don’t want to live in a world where I can’t remember our time here, but I will, if it means getting you back for Christmas, so you can live out your dreams.” Pulling her into me, I wrap my arms around her, holding her close to my chest.
“That’s why I didn’t hold back what I was feeling,” I explain. “There’s a part of me that wakes up each morning expecting to be back in New York too. I want to make the most of the time we have together without all the noise that comes with being home, even if it’s just for a few days.”
“You’re right,” she says.
Pulling back, my lips turn upward. “I always am.”
She swats at my chest, and my shoulders shake.
“Don’t ruin this moment,” she deadpans.
Bending down, I take her chin between my thumb and finger, lifting it slightly. Our lips connect in a kiss that says everything words can’t.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Skate with me.”
We begin to move around the small rink, gliding together on top of the ice. It feels good to be out here, with her and in no pain.
She breaks away from me, moving ahead. Her movements are effortless, and she looks happy out on the ice with me. It’s easy to imagine the two of us skating at Rockefeller Center every year.
She stops and turns to face me. Our eyes lock, causing her mouth to curve into a grin. Snow begins to fall around us. Putting her hands out to the side, she looks up to the sky and starts to laugh.
I skate quickly across to meet her. Snatching her up, I spin her around, settling her in front of me with her back against the boards. My hands weave into her hair, and I kiss her deeply.
“Sometimes this feels a little too perfect,” she says, catching some snow on her glove.
“Or maybe it’s just because you’re realizing you and I are actually perfect for each other.”
“You have no idea how badly I wish those cheesy lines of yours didn’t have an effect on me,” she says, pulling away and rolling her eyes.
“Just give in,” I tease. Her mouth tips up, and her eyes gleam with mischief. “What’s that look?”
“Want to play me in a little one-on-one ice hockey game?” she asks.
“That depends,” I jest. “What does the winner get?”
Cocking her head to the side, she thinks for a minute.
“I’m not sure. What do you think?”
“How about if I win, I get to take you on a date tomorrow, and if you win, I have to plan a date for you tomorrow?”
“That’s the same thing.”
“Then it sounds like we can’t lose.” I flash her a goofy smile.
“You could just ask me on a date,” she says.
“I could, but I like my chances better this way.”
I skate over to where my hockey equipment sits, grabbing a puck and two sticks. “Okay, first one to get a goal wins,” I say, tossing her one of the sticks.
“Okay,” she says, putting the stick to the ice. She moves back and forth playfully, pretending like she knows what she’s doing, but it’s clear she doesn’t.
“Have you ever played hockey before?”
“No,” she says. “But, it doesn’t look that hard.”
Shaking my head, I move behind her. I wrap my arms around her and breathe in her sweet perfume. My lips find her neck in a tender kiss.
“I thought we were going to play a game.”
“Sorry, I can’t help myself,” I murmur against her neck, making her body shudder. She tilts her head further to the side, exposing more of her soft skin, and I lay a few more up kisses up the column of her throat and towards her ear.
“Stop,” she says, a little breathless.
“Why?”
“Because we’re in public.”
I place another kiss right below her ear.
“Come on, teach me how to hold the stick. You can kiss me wherever you want later.”
“Wherever I want?”
She nods her head and shifts her hips back against me, causing me to groan and her to let out a giggle.
“This is torture,” I say.
“Come on. Don’t be dramatic. Teach me.”
Exhaling, I straighten up behind her. “Grip the stick like you’re going to shoot it.”
“Which stick?” She grinds her hips backwards again.
A snort escapes, and I shake my head. “Yours.”
She puts her hands haphazardly on the top of the shaft and looks over her shoulder. “Like this?”
“No.” I chuckle. “Which hand feels more comfortable on top?”
“My right.”
“Okay, so place it here, forming a V with the spot between your thumb and your finger.” I point to the top of the shaft.
She moves her hand, following my directions. “Like this?”
“Perfect. Now, I like to grip it firmly, but not too tight.”
“You like the grip firm, but not too tight,” she purrs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
My cock twitches at her words, and I try to will it away, but it’s no use. She knows what she’s doing, and I like it too much.
“Okay and what do I do with the other hand?” she asks.
“Place it underneath, and leave your grip loose until you’re ready to shoot. Does that make sense?”
“I think so,” she says, adjusting her hands slightly.
Releasing her, I turn, grabbing a puck and tossing it in front of her stick. “Okay, so I want you to try to shoot the puck toward that goal.”
“Shoot the puck,” she repeats. “Sounds easy enough.”
She rears back, dropping her head. Her eyes land on the puck, but then she swings and misses, throwing her off her balance.
“Woah, woah,” I say, moving back behind her, catching her waist. “Grip it the way I showed you, and then when you pull back, keep your head up and your eyes on your target.”
“Can you show me?”
“Sure.”
I cover her hands with mine and help guide the stick back and then forward. The blade makes contact with the puck, and it flies across the ice and into the nearby goal.
“I did it,” she bursts.
“Good, now you think you can do that while moving?”
“I can try.”
We both skate over to the middle of the rink and line up facing one another.
I throw the puck into the air, and she immediately begins to fight me for possession when it lands in front of us.
To my surprise, she wins out and moves past me toward her goal before I can react.
Spinning around to follow her, I watch as she shoots and sends the puck into the back of the net like a goddamn pro.
What the hell was that?
Turning around, a proud, wide smile breaks across her face, and a laugh bursts out of her. “You can close your mouth,” she teases.
“How did you do that?”
“I told you. It’s not that hard.”
“You played me.”
“Like a fiddle,” she jests. “I can’t believe you thought I didn’t know how to handle a stick. I feel like earlier in the living room, I clearly proved that I do.”
A loud chuckle erupts, shaking my chest. Skating at her with my full force, she shrieks. I wrap my arms around her, and a melodic laugh escapes her as I spin her around and tickle her sides.
“Hey, you two,” Joe says, skating toward us.
“Is it that time already?” I ask, setting her down carefully.
“Almost. Claire, I didn’t know you knew how to play,” he says.
“Barely.” She laughs. “My dad is a big fan and taught me and my sister how to play when we were little. It’s been a long time, and I’m a little rusty.”
“Well, you sure gave Everett a run for his money.”
“Hiya, Claire.” Cami waves from off the side of the rink. “You ready for some wine?”
“Wine?” She glances over to me.
“Go,” I encourage her. “We can walk back to the house together when I’m done?”
“I’d like that,” she says.
“Good.” Leaning in, I place a kiss on her forehead and then take her stick. I watch as she skates to meet Cami, relieved that today seemed to turn around and still drunk off the fact that she’s falling for me too.