11. JAX
CHAPTER 11
JAX
The local skating rink smells like a combination of stale popcorn, rubber, and the faint metallic tang of icy air. It’s not fancy—just a modest arena with scuffed walls, disco lights flickering overhead, and an ancient sound system blasting classic rock. A low wooden barrier surrounds the rink floor, and kids with red faces and wobbly knees cling to it like their lives depend on it. A few couples glide gracefully in the center, showing off. The whole place practically hums, skates scraping against ice, and the occasional thud of someone hitting the ground.
I lean against the railing, watching Marcus fiddle with the tripod while Ethan checks the mic levels we’ll need for the episode. They’re focused and intent on making this episode a success after the restaurant fiasco. Ethan mutters something about lighting, Marcus rolls his eyes, and I glance over at Olivia.
I spot Olivia sitting on a bench near the edge of the rink, bent over as she ties her skates. Her hair falls into her face, but I know it’s her. The way she’s angled away from me, the tension in her shoulders—yeah, she’s avoiding me. Again.
I’m not going to let her get away with it this time.
I stride over, leaning against the barrier as I watch her fumble with her laces. Her fingers are moving like she’s trying to pull a grenade pin, quick and jerky. There’s a sharp twist in my chest when I think about how things have been between us since that night.
It was the best sex I’ve ever had, and she’s acting like it didn’t happen. That stings. Hell, it hurts . My ego’s taken a hit, sure, but it’s more than that. I can’t stop thinking about her—her laugh, the freckles on her shoulders, the way she looked at me like I wasn’t just some cocky guy throwing lines. Now? Now she won’t even look at me.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” I say, my voice low as I crouch down in front of her. Without waiting for an invitation, I take over, tying the laces she’s fumbling with. My fingers brush hers, and I can feel her tense up.
Her green eyes dart to mine, and for a moment, the world around us blurs. A flash of that night burns in my memory—her skin warm under my hands, the way her soft moans filled the air, her freckles scattered across her alabaster skin like constellations. My chest tightens, heat pooling low in my stomach. Damn it. I need to get a grip.
She pulls her foot back slightly, breaking the spell. “I’m not avoiding you,” she mutters, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You just have an overinflated sense of self-importance.”
“Yeah?” I smirk, tying the other shoe. “Then why’s it been nothing but radio silence since?—?”
Her glare cuts me off. “Don’t finish that sentence, Jax.”
I bite back a grin. She’s flustered, but there’s something else in her expression—nerves? I pause, studying her. This isn’t just about me, is it?
“What’s really going on, Olivia?” I press, keeping my voice soft. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else but here.”
She exhales sharply, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “It’s stupid,” she says finally.
“Try me.”
She glances around the rink, avoiding my eyes. “I broke my tooth here once,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was twelve, and I thought I could skate backward like some Olympic champion. Spoiler alert: I couldn’t. Face-planted right into the ice.”
I chuckle before I can stop myself, earning a glare. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” I say quickly, holding my hands up. “It’s just… well, I promise today’s not going to be a repeat of that. Besides, you’ve got me. I’m a pro.”
“Right,” she says dryly, though I catch a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Before I can say more, a movement catches my eye. A kid, maybe eight years old, is sitting a few feet away, struggling with his skates. His small hands are shaking as he fumbles with the laces, his head down like he doesn’t want anyone to notice him.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, leaning over. The kid looks up, startled, his wide eyes darting between me and Olivia. “Need some help with those?”
He hesitates, then gives a small nod. I slide over and start tying his laces, keeping my tone light. “First time skating?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I’m not very good.”
“Neither is Olivia,” I say, jerking my thumb toward her. She gasps, smacking my shoulder, and the kid cracks a shy smile. “Hey!” she protests. “I’m not the one who called himself a pro.”
“True, but you’re the one who broke a tooth skating backward,” I shoot back, grinning.
The kid lets out a quiet laugh, and I feel a small swell of pride. “There we go,” I say, finishing his laces. “All set. You’re going to crush it out there.”
“Thanks,” the kid murmurs before scooting off, still shy but visibly more at ease.
When I turn back to Olivia, she’s watching me, her expression unreadable. “What?” I ask, brushing my hands on my jeans.
“Nothing,” she says quickly, but there’s a softness in her gaze that wasn’t there before.
The boy is still fiddling with the laces I just tied, his fingers tugging absentmindedly, like he’s trying to delay something. There’s a look on his face I recognize—hesitation, maybe even fear. It nags at me.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, crouching back down to his level. “You here with someone? Parents?”
He shakes his head quickly, his eyes darting away. Before I can press him further, a voice calls out from across the rink.
“Adam! There you are!”
A girl, probably in her late teens or early twenties, rushes over. She’s balancing two cups of hot chocolate, her dark curls bouncing as she moves. She looks relieved when she sees him, though the crease in her brow suggests she’s not thrilled he wandered off.
“Sorry,” she says, looking at me and Olivia apologetically. “He’s my cousin. I’m supposed to be babysitting, but I thought bringing him out here might be more fun than staying home.”
The boy—Adam, apparently—shuffles in his seat, avoiding eye contact. “Mom’s busy,” the girl continues, ruffling his hair. “Poor kid’s been stuck in his room all day, so I figured a little ice skating might cheer him up.”
I nod, watching Adam. “Good call. Sometimes you just need to get out for a bit, huh, Adam?”
He glances up at me, the smallest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His cousin smiles, too, though hers is a bit more strained. “Thanks for helping him,” she says, taking his hand. “Come on, Adam. Let’s get on the ice before it gets too crowded.”
Adam looks back at me once. “I know you,” he says.
My heart skips a beat. “You’re cool dude.”
“You a hockey player?” his cousin asks.
“I used to play,” I admit.
“Adam is obsessed with hockey!” she explains.
“Oh,” I say. I never know what to say to address that. “You kids have fun now.”
The girl nods, tugging at her little cousin. Adam looks at me one last time before following her, his skates clunking against the rubber flooring. Something about the kid sticks with me—maybe the quiet way he carries himself, or the way he seemed so unsure. I shake it off as they disappear into the crowd, turning back to Olivia.
“What?” she asks, her eyebrow raised as she catches me staring after them.
“Nothing,” I say, brushing off the moment.
“Just thinking about how I used to look just as terrified as Adam when I first got on the ice.”
“Still do,” she quips, a sly smile curving her lips.
I let out a laugh and glance over at Ethan. He’s giving me a double thumbs-up from across the rink, clearly pleased with whatever footage he just got. I roll my eyes at him and turn back to Olivia, extending my hand.
“Come on, Chase,” I say, my voice full of challenge. “Let’s hit the ice.”
She looks at my hand for a moment, then up at me. Her green eyes narrow slightly, but there’s no mistaking the spark of determination in them. “Fine,” she says, slipping her hand into mine. “But if I fall, I’m taking you down with me.”
“Deal,” I reply, grinning as I pull her to her feet.
As we step toward the rink, I can’t help but glance back, searching for Adam and his cousin in the crowd. For a moment, I think about what might be happening in their lives, but then Olivia squeezes my hand, pulling my focus back to her.
“Ready to show me what a pro you are, Jax?” she teases
As soon as we step onto the ice, Olivia wobbles, clutching my hand like her life depends on it. Her green eyes widen, and she lets out a startled laugh.
“Oh, God. This was a terrible idea,” she mutters.
“Nah, you’ve got this,” I say, steadying her with a hand on her waist. The contact feels natural like it’s something I’ve done a hundred times before. Her body tenses slightly, but I let my grip linger when she doesn’t pull away. “Relax, Chase. Just keep your knees bent and your weight forward.”
She gives me a skeptical look. “You say that like it’s easy.”
“That’s because it is. You’re overthinking it.”
“Right,” she says dryly, wobbling again as her skates slide unpredictably beneath her. I tighten my hold on her waist, pulling her closer to keep her from falling.
“See? You didn’t even hit the ice,” I tease, flashing her a grin.
“Yet,” she shoots back, her lips curving into a reluctant smile.
For a few laps, we move slowly, Olivia gripping my hand like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. I stay close, my hand on her waist every time she starts to slip. Gradually, though, she loosens up, her movements growing less rigid.
“You’re getting the hang of it,” I say as she glides a little more confidently.
“Don’t jinx it,” she warns, but there’s a hint of pride in her tone.
I crack a joke about how she looks like a baby giraffe on skates, and she retaliates by “accidentally” swerving into me, making me stumble.
“Oops,” she says innocently, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Careful, Chase,” I say, leaning in a little closer. “You start something, you better be ready to finish it.”
Her cheeks flush, but she holds my gaze, her green eyes challenging. “Maybe I am.”
For a second, we’re closer than we should be. My hand is still on her waist, and her fingers grip my forearm lightly for balance.
As Olivia and I step off the ice, I catch sight of Marcus and Ethan standing near the camera setup, watching us with unreadable expressions. Ethan’s arms are crossed, his usual easygoing demeanor nowhere in sight, and Marcus looks like he’s working through some mental calculus.
Olivia excuses herself to grab some water, flashing me a quick smile before walking off toward the concession stand. I take my time untying my skates, giving her a moment to walk away before standing. That’s when Marcus strides over.
“You two looked cozy out there,” he says, his tone carefully neutral.
I smirk. “What can I say? Chase’s a natural on the ice.”
Marcus doesn’t return the smile. Instead, he steps closer, lowering his voice. “You might want to dial it down a bit.”
My brows knit together. “Dial what down?”
He gestures vaguely toward the rink. “All that. The hand-holding, the banter—it’s a little... chummy.”
I fold my arms, leaning back against the railing. “Isn’t that the point? A dating show, remember? People like to see chemistry.”
“Fake dating,” Marcus corrects, enunciating each word like he’s explaining something to a child.
“The world isn’t supposed to know that, you know?” I say, frowning. “Nobody will tune in otherwise.”
“All three of us need to be an equal option for her for the public interest to stick out.”
I frown, not sure what he’s getting at. “And your point is?” Is this just about his insecurity?
Marcus narrows his eyes, clearly irritated. “The point is, this is supposed to be a show. Entertainment. Not... whatever that was.”
I cock my head, studying him. “You sure this isn’t about something else?”
Marcus’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t bite. Instead, he presses on. “Look, I’m just saying, maybe don’t get carried away. This is a team effort, and we need to stay professional.”
Before I can respond, Ethan walks up, breaking the tension. “Everything okay here?” he asks, glancing between us.
“Peachy,” I say, forcing a grin.
Marcus doesn’t say anything, just gives Ethan a tight nod before walking off toward the equipment. Ethan watches him go, then turns to me, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.
“You sure you’re good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, waving it off. But as I glance toward Olivia, now chatting with a kid near the concession stand, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s shifted—and not just with her.