21. Erin
CHAPTER 21
ERIN
“ O kay, you can open your eyes.”
We were in a parking lot. A big, grey parking lot. I looked up and saw a huge building in front of us with Nevada Storm written on the side.
Yesterday, we’d hurtled out of the house in the middle of lunch, only for Kelsey to head right back to the Neptune. Did she feel sick? Get her work finished early? We’d never know because by the time we got there, she’d disappeared. And I sensed Rusty was growing sick of following her. Yesterday evening, I’d overheard him on the phone, telling someone it was a big waste of time.
This morning, he’d announced we were going out, but he refused to tell me where. A surprise, he said. I wasn’t expecting much. Hoppel poppel aside, surprises sucked. One time when I was working for an events company, my tyrant of a boss called me in on my day off because he forgot a whole freaking birthday party, and after I worked twelve hours serving drinks to overgrown frat boys, he thanked me with a “surprise” gift card. For five bucks. For a coffee shop his wife owned .
I quit, but I figured I might as well drink the free coffee, and that was how I overheard the fight. Although to be fair, his wife was screaming so loud, folks in North Carolina probably heard every word. The words “cheating bastard” and “divorce” were mentioned, so the five bucks actually turned out to be a pretty neat gift.
“We’re gonna watch ice hockey?” I asked Rusty.
“Wrong time of year for that. This is the Storm’s practice rink, and we’re going skating.”
“What?”
“It’s that thing where you put on fancy boots and slide along the ice.”
“I know what it is. I want to know why you think I can do it?”
“Because I’m planning to teach you.”
“Oh, really?”
“From when I was fourteen to when I was eighteen, I taught pretty much half the kids in Savigny to skate. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
“You might know what you’re doing, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“We’ll change that. Hey, you said you wanted to take a trip somewhere cold, didn’t you? It isn’t Alaska, but it’s chilly.”
“And I’m wearing a T-shirt.”
“There’s a sweater in the back. Plus gloves and a scarf, knee pads, elbow pads, and thick socks. I brought three pairs of figure skates because I wasn’t sure what size your feet were.”
“Boy, you really thought this through.”
“Yeah, I did.” He seemed oddly pleased with himself.
And honestly, outside of my brother, I wasn’t sure anyone had ever gone to so much effort for me. I’d probably fall on my ass, but I at least had to try and skate a few steps. Rusty came around to open my door, and then he retrieved a giant duffel bag from the back seat of the truck.
“Will there be many witnesses to my humiliation?” I asked.
“This rink isn’t open to the public. I called in a favour to borrow it for an hour. There might be staff around, but nobody’s going to be gawking, and I won’t let you fall.”
“I think you underestimate my ability to screw things up.”
Rusty made a call, and a guy in a sweater bearing the Storm’s logo greeted us at a side door with a salute.
“Morning, Mr. Bolt.”
“Thanks for doing this.”
Rusty gestured for me to go first. As I passed, he touched the small of my back again, and I jumped.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I forgot.”
Why would he keep touching me like that? Wasn’t that one of those date indicators he’d pointed out when we were watching Kelsey in the Salt Shaker? It couldn’t be, because this wasn’t a date, this was just two friends. Were we friends? I figured we were. Two friends on our way to do something both fun and terrifying. Fun for Rusty, terrifying for me.
Twenty minutes later, I sat on a bench wearing warm clothing, pads, and a helmet. Rusty knelt in front of me, lacing up my skates.
“Why aren’t you wearing a helmet?” I asked. “Aren’t you worried about getting hurt?”
He gave a soft chuckle. “Not much up here to damage, so my mom always said.”
But there was. There was kindness and generosity. Rusty was a man trying his best to give me a day to remember, although whether I’d remember it for good reasons or for bad was still up for debate. Either way, I sure wouldn’t forget this trip .
Rusty hopped backward onto the ice and beckoned me to walk. I clomped toward him, unsteady on narrow blades. He held out his hands, and I grabbed them, hanging on for dear life as I took a tentative step onto the slippery surface.
“Don’t forget to breathe.”
“This is good. I’ll just stay here.”
He ignored that and moved off, taking me with him, and I let out a squeak as we left the safety of the barrier.
“I’ve tried it, okay? We can go now.”
“Lean forward a little and bend your knees, then it’s harder to land on your ass.”
“Don’t let go of me.”
“I won’t let go, I promise.”
And he didn’t. We managed a slow lap of the ice, Rusty smooth and elegant, me bumbling along and trying desperately not to fall. I worked out that if I just pointed my feet forward and let him pull me along, it wasn’t quite so daunting.
“Have you ever been surfing?” I asked.
“Once.”
“You didn’t enjoy it?”
“I spent more time in the water than on the board.”
“Great. I’m taking you surfing as payback for the ice skating.”
“When? I’ll pack my Speedos.”
“Wearing Speedos on a surfboard is illegal.”
“So I should bring my mankini?”
“You don’t have one of those.”
“Yeah, I do. I got it as a Secret Santa gift last Christmas.”
A voice came from behind us, and I jumped out of my freaking skates. Rusty grabbed me, and by some miracle, I stayed upright.
“Hey, buddy. Who the fuck let you in?”
Rusty wrapped an arm around me and gripped my belt as he half carried me to the side, where a tall guy with shaggy hair was watching us. His Nevada Storm jersey suggested he belonged here.
“Greg said we could borrow the ice for an hour.”
Rusty didn’t let go of me as he gave the guy a bro hug, and then he introduced us. “Erin, this is Brick, defenseman for the Storm. Brick, this is Erin.”
Brick offered a hand, and Rusty’s arm tightened as I extended mine.
“Don’t make me fall over,” I begged.
“First time on the ice?”
“How did you guess?”
“Relax, this shithead is a good teacher.” Brick turned back to Rusty. “Didn’t hear you’d moved on.”
“It was time.”
“So, uh…” Something unspoken passed between the two men, and Brick backed away. “Catch ya later, bro.”
“What was that about?” I whispered.
“Forget him. Let’s skate.”
It got easier. I wasn’t going to be entering the Olympics any time soon, but maybe I wouldn’t get a concussion. Rusty let go of me, and I might have managed a whole lap on my own if a squawk from the sound system hadn’t sent me skittering. My left foot went one way, my right foot went the other, and I would have done the splits if Rusty hadn’t grabbed me. Did I mention that I couldn’t do the splits without tearing muscles or ligaments or whatever made my legs work?
He lifted me onto my feet, but he’d vastly overestimated my abilities, and I lost my balance again. This was why I liked surfing. Okay, I wasn’t great at it, but at least seawater was more forgiving than ice. Rusty twisted us in midair and took the fall, then let out an “oof” as I landed hard on top of him.
“Shit!” I scrambled to get up and nearly sliced one of his fingers with a blade. “Dammit! ”
“Easy, easy.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me still. “Don’t panic.”
“But I’m squashing you.”
“I’m good with this position.”
“Huh?” I said. Then I realised what I was sitting on and gasped.
“Please don’t slap me for that.”
“I…I…”
The thought of slapping him hadn’t entered my mind, mainly because my brain was frozen. But when Rusty ran his hands up my back, I tipped forward and found my lips inches from his, my hands braced on his shoulders.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.
“Two options come to mind. You can call me an asshole, or you can kiss me.”
What? He wanted me to kiss him? But…but… Rusty Bolt was handsome and rich and popular and way out of my league. And he was also watching me with the softest smile. If I kissed him, I’d regret it. In a week, perhaps two, he’d leave for Fresno, and I’d be left with an unruly bunch of feelings I had no clue what to do with. But if I didn’t kiss him, I’d regret that too.
I leaned forward and brushed my lips across his, breathing hard.
“Testing, testing.”
The public address system startled me again, but Rusty just tangled his hands in my hair and kissed me properly. And I realised that although I’d been kissed before, I’d never been kissed . Not with heat fizzing through my veins and a desperate need for more, more, more. Only the buzzing of my phone and someone applauding from the edge of the ice broke me out of Rusty’s spell.
His gaze met mine, his smile wider than before. “Was that the tracking app?”
“What? ”
“The tracking app—doesn’t it buzz like that when Kelsey leaves work?”
Oh, yeah. Right. What the heck just happened?
Rusty got us both to our feet and flipped Brick the bird. “Asshole,” he muttered. “You okay?”
Absolutely not. I shook my head.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. So fuckin’ sorry. I thought you were into it as much as me.”
“I was,” I hurried to reassure him. “I am, but now everything’s changed, everything between us, I mean, and I need a moment to process.”
“Right, uh… Give me the phone?”
My hands shook as I handed it over. Rusty already had the unlock code from yesterday, and he checked the alert.
“She just left.”
“Dammit.”
“I’m very, very tempted to say ‘fuck this surveillance.’”
So was I, but what if Kelsey met Galaxy Guy again? We weren’t friends or anything but I still felt I should look out for her. Sisterhood and all that. Plus Rusty had been sent to Vegas to ensure his friend’s future happiness, and Silas would surely be miserable if his girlfriend got hit on by a slimeball.
“We should go.”
Rusty clenched his jaw for a moment and finally sighed. “You’re right. But this is to be continued.”
What did he mean by that? The ice skating or the kissing? Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to go ice skating again, especially if my legs kept trembling the way they were right now.
But I agreed because the alternative was to forget this morning ever happened, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to do that.
“Okay.” I nodded. “Okay.”