Chapter 14 Greer

Chapter fourteen

Greer

I don’t know why I agreed to this. The last thing I ever thought I’d be doing today is lacing up ice skates. Or should I say having an incredibly hot man lace up ice skates for me. Did I mention that means he’s on his knees in front of me?

I won’t say I don’t have a thing for that.

But I also shouldn’t be thinking about anything sexual considering he has a complicated relationship with not one but two men, one of whom I’m not convinced isn’t jealous.

Not only because Sam was glaring at us through the window like a stalker, but there was also that thing last night at the bar when Kai stopped before he could kiss me.

Remi’s massive hands with matching strong fingers finish tying the lace of my skate with a delicate precision that reminds me of the way he handled Kai last night. I clear my throat and will the image away before I smile at him.

“You’re good to go,” he says, squeezing my ankle.

“Thanks.”

I glance down at the white skates that look brand new then out to the rink that sits in the shadow of the Christmas tree, the one in the town’s center.

I’m surprised the rink’s not buried in snow, but I guess they have a way to keep it clean.

The ice doesn’t have too many people on it, which is a good thing because I do suck at skating.

I bite the inside of my cheek, annoyed at myself. Why am I here?

One minute, I was upset with Remi while we argued about the definition of wealth, and then the next, we were so close I could feel his warm breath puff against my lips. When he asked me to go skate with him, I said yes before I really thought about it.

Not only do I suck at the activity, but the last time I had skates on my feet was with Avery, when we were kids. I could probably figure out exactly when, but I don’t want to dig around my memories. I don’t need to relive the past again.

Maybe that’s why I said yes so readily, because I’m still trying to ignore the fact that last night didn’t really feel like a dream at all. I especially am trying to forget my slippers being wet and that ornament hanging on the tree. Freaking weird.

“Greer?”

I blink at Remi, who is standing with his hand out, waiting for me to take it. It’s weird to me that this stranger even wants to hang out with me. Not only did I upset him by asking about his inn, but he was also obviously close enough to my conversation with Holly yesterday to hear what was said.

I’m surprised he hasn’t scolded me like Avery did for visiting Holly’s business so close to Christmas. It seemed like he and the owner were chummy, so he should be avoiding me like the plague. Instead, we ate breakfast together, and he asked me to be “spontaneous” and ice skate.

Christmas music blares from some speakers around the colorful tree, a modern rendition of “Carol of the Bells.” I cringe as the notes swell but take his hand. He pulls me up, the black skates on his feet making him taller than he already is. He towers over me like a skyscraper.

“You alright, love?”

Love. It’s bad that I like it when he calls me that, right? We’re not even friends, let alone lovers. He’s already got two of those—he doesn’t need me, even if I swear he would have kissed me back there if I’d asked.

“Yeah, fine. I blacked out when I said yes to this,” I say as I wobble a bit on my skates. “I should have known it would be Christmas central here.”

He chuckles. “Sorry about that. Can’t change the outdated decorations, but I could ask for a music change if that would help.”

I shouldn’t feel bad at his words—the Greer of yesterday wouldn’t—but for some reason, I do.

Clearly, my jab at the inn’s furnishings rubbed him the wrong way.

He wouldn’t bring up the “outdated” decor now if it didn’t.

Then there was the incident with the carolers.

God, what is wrong with me? Why am I feeling bad?

It’s simply my opinion and a good one at that. I was trying to help him.

“Greer?” he asks again.

My eyes dart to nearby skaters who are happily enjoying the music—some of them even have red and green outfits on. I puff out a breath, crystalizing the air. “No, that’s okay. I’ll survive.”

“You’re sure?” Remi asks with a half-smile.

The damn smile has my own mouth twitching. “Yeah, it’s okay. Now show me how to skate, because I don’t want to break an ankle.”

Remi’s smile widens, and he squeezes my hand, leading me from the bench area around the rink and onto the ice, keeping me steady.

“The key to ice skating is mostly in your legs. Bend your knees, keep your weight centered, and whatever you do, don’t stiffen up.”

I almost cackle at that. My body may be soft and pliable, but I’ve done my best to fit into my given Ice Queen nickname over the last few years. That includes walking with my shoulders back and not letting anything get to me. Stiff should be my middle name.

“Is that it?” I ask.

“Most people fall when they lean too far back. Keep a slight forward lean with your weight over the balls of your feet. Use your arms for balance, and if you feel like you’re going to fall, engage your core to stay centered.”

I nod, looking at a couple skating around. It doesn’t look that hard. I can do this. “Okay, fine. Let go of me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” The lack of certainty in his question only makes me want to prove I can do it more. I make sure I’m leaning a bit forward and have my abs tight before he gently releases me and skates backward a couple of feet. When I don’t move right away, he laughs softly.

“Remember what I told you, and skate to me.”

I inhale a deep breath and use the fuel I always use when I feel like I can’t do something: someone telling me I can’t. That I’m not good enough.

I wobble a bit as my core clenches, and Remi speaks again. “Don’t lean back, and don’t stiffen up.”

My throat works on a swallow, and I attempt to tune out the Christmas music playing. I do what he says and then bend my knees, propelling myself forward.

“That’s it, love. Good girl.”

My lower stomach clenches for a whole new reason, and my cheeks flame. Before I know what’s happening, I’m slipping. I throw my arms out, lean back instead of forward, and feel myself begin to fall.

But the cold ice never touches my bottom. Sure hands grab me and keep me from impending doom.

When I’m righted and I open my eyes, Remi’s strong body is pressed against mine, and he’s stifling a laugh.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

I drop my shoulders down. “This is harder than it looks.”

“Why don’t we start a bit slower? Hold on to my forearms, and I’ll help you skate.”

“Seriously?”

He nods. “You’ll be skating on your own in no time, but get your legs under you first.”

“Skating like that is for children,” I argue.

He grips my body tighter to his, and I shiver as I look into his green eyes.

“There’s no shame in leaning on someone. We all need it from time to time, even adults.”

His words swell like a rising tide in my chest, but I push whatever emotion his words drummed up down. I don’t like leaning on others—it’s not like there’s been anyone in my life to lean on.

“It’s only ice skating, love,” he adds.

I blink at him. It’s like he’s in my mind. “So you say. But did you need to lean on someone when you learned how to skate?”

Remi doesn’t strike me as someone who asks for or needs help, especially for something like this. If spying on him and his lovers last night showed me anything, it’s that he’s a man who demands and dominates. He doesn’t hold on for dear life.

His smile softens. “When I learned, yes. There’s no shame in it.”

Our eyes remain locked until the intensity of his makes me want inappropriate things. The image of Sam watching us through the window pops into my mind, and I pull back slightly.

“Okay.” I release the air I had trapped in my lungs. “I’ll take the help.” The words feel foreign on my tongue, but I can’t deny my body feels lighter after I say them. Something to unpack at a later date.

Remi beams, lips curved slyly. “Good girl.”

Arousal shoots through my body and warms me to my toes. Before I can rethink my decision, we get into position, and I clutch his forearms while he grips mine.

“Are you ready to try again?”

“Take two,” I nod.

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