Chapter 17 Eve
SEVENTEEN
EVE
February
At the end of today’s skating lesson, we have some free time left.
The best way for them to practice at this stage is to get out there and skate.
Cole’s racing some of the kids back and forth while I’ve slipped into some old flows from my figure skating days before I lost interest. It draws their attention, even though I’m rusty.
I flip around, gliding backwards with my arms out. When it feels good, I pop into a jump. I only manage one clean rotation, but the kids lose it.
Grinning, I keep going with an improvised routine of my favorite techniques. My muscle memory kicks in. I forgot how much fun this is. After I make a large loop, I finish off with a scratch spin, keeping my arms tucked against my body, twirling fast.
When I come out of it, I catch Cole watching me showing off.
The kids gape at me, several of them talking at once as they crowd around me.
“Whoa!”
“Where’d you learn that!”
“Well, my dad is a hockey coach. He taught me to skate when I was small like you.” I crouch beside the smallest of our students. “Then I learned figure skating because I wanted to be able to do the cool jumps.”
Cole chuckles. “You should’ve seen her. She was amazing. We’d have competitions between her and the hockey team to see who could outskate the other.”
“Who won?” a little girl asks.
“Me.”
“Eve,” he says simultaneously, meeting my eyes with a smirk. “Except forward speed. I had you beat there.”
Something nostalgic tugs at my chest, sending me back to high school.
Cole leaned against the boards, geared up for practice. He tracked me as I ran through my routine. The other players were still trickling out from the locker room while I finished off my ice time, including my brother.
I pushed myself, going for a triple instead of a double toe loop when I leapt into the air. When I landed it, I gave up on the routine, whipping my gaze to him.
“Oh my god, did you see that?”
I raced across the ice, spraying him when I stopped. He caught me against him with a charismatic smile that made me dizzy. I wished he looked at me that way because he liked me back.
Breathless, I grabbed his jersey and gave him a shake. “I landed a triple toe loop!”
“I saw,” he said. “It looked killer.”
“You don’t sound impressed. Do you know how hard it is? There’s the speed, the balance, rhythm—all while rotating in the air.”
He shrugged. “I bet I can do it.”
“Oh yeah?” I pointed at the ice. “Try a spin.”
He pushed off the boards with a cocky swagger. A few of his teammates watched, hyping him up. He studied my demonstration, then attempted to repeat it without success. He frowned.
“That was a pitiful spin,” I said through a cackle.
“Okay, how about this,” he said. “Let’s battle it out. Who’s got it harder, figure skaters or hockey players.”
“You’re on.”
We started with backwards skating. I won, then he crushed me in forward speed, swinging around while I was at the halfway mark to chase me around the rink.
Challenge forgotten, I zipped around with unrestrained laughter until he caught me around the waist. My pulse sped up at the feel of him against my back.
“Got you,” he muttered next to my ear.
“Yo, Cole!” Benson called.
My heart plummeted when he left to join my brother. I reminded myself he didn’t see me the way I wished he would.
I’m pulled from my recollection when Cole announces, “Looks like that’s time. Come on, some of your parents are already waiting for you.”
“Show them how good you’re getting,” I encourage.
The group of students get excited, eagerly skating to the exit. We hang back, making sure they manage on their own without our assistance. It stirs a flicker of pride when each kid skates with confidence.
“Is it bad I’d rather hang out here teaching the kids than deal with their parents?” he mutters to me.
I smirk. “Getting tired of the single ones trying to hit on you after every class?”
I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t part of me that gets irritated whenever I catch someone flirting with Cole. I want to shove our chat history in all their faces and stomp in a circle around him to warn them all to back off.
“Yes. They won’t take a hint. It’s getting awkward. I don’t know how many ways I can say no, sorry, not interested.”
He whips off his Heston U Hockey hat and sifts his fingers through his hair. I grab his hand once he puts it back on.
“I’ll protect you.”
“How?”
It’s his turn to smirk, dimples appearing. He keeps me in place, drawing my chin up with his fingers. A flutter moves through me.
“Are you gonna kiss me, Evie?” His voice dips. “Here and now?”
I freeze, lips parted and eyes wide. “I, uh, I mean—we could, if that’s what you think will stop them, but, well, people talk. What if word gets to Benson or my dad?”
His deep, rumbling laugh cuts off my stammering. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going to ravish you on the ice. Not unless you ask me nicely.”
I’m burning from the tips of my ears to my toes. The corners of his gleaming eyes crinkle and he pats my head.
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered. Come on. If any of them try to put the moves on me, I’ll tell them I’m taken.”
I wait a full minute after he skates off, needing the breather to cool down. When I leave the ice, he’s laughing with two of the dads he plays hockey with on the recreational team.
People filter out quickly. One of the moms flags me down before I sit to take my skates off.
“Oh, Eve! While you’re here, I’ve got a question about these. Are they customizable? And do you take bulk orders?”
My store is open on her phone. It’s still surreal a month after my launch, but my following is growing.
I’m getting used to telling people I have a business when I receive compliments on my earrings or the stickers on my water thermos.
Part of me worried no one would want to pay for what I make, but the loyalty from people around town touches my heart.
Sometimes the slow growth makes me impatient to be bigger and do more, but I’m so happy I started Sweet Luxe. I’ve never been more creatively fulfilled.
“Yes, I can do custom,” I answer brightly. “What did you have in mind?”
“These ones.” She shows me a set of my boho arch earrings. “I want to order ten for bridesmaid gifts for my sister’s wedding this summer. They’re too cute!”
I lace my hands together to keep from flailing with giddiness at my first big custom order, aiming to come off professional and collected. Inside, I’m totally screaming.
“Perfect. Send me a message and we can get that set up. Thanks so much for your order.”
“I want Miss Eve’s earrings,” her daughter says. “Can I get some, mommy? We can match.”
She laughs, hugging her. “You don’t have your ears pierced.”
“Oh, I think I have some clip-ons. It’s an easy swap,” I say. “They’ll be special ones just for you.”
“Hear that, Gabby?”
The little girl squeals in excitement. Her mom mouths thank you with a nod.
“See you at the next lesson.” I wave to them on their way out of the courtyard.
They’re the last to leave. I turn to find Cole watching with a soft smile. He still has his skates on and he steps back on the ice.
“There’s an hour before the rink opens up for open skating hours. Want to keep going?”
“Okay.”
The rink is empty and the lights come on just as dusk gives way to the inky winter night. It’s beautiful to see the outlines of the pine trees around the frozen lake. No one’s around to watch us skate laps.
Our hands keep bumping until he takes mine. I don’t pull away. It feels right to hold his hand, the only sound the wind in the trees and our blades carving the rink.
This almost feels like it could be a date. It hits me hard how much I want it to be.
“It’s nice being on the ice together again,” he murmurs.
“Takes me right back to high school and sharing the rink with you hockey boys.”
He squeezes my hand. “Yeah. I was thinking about that while you were showing off your moves.”
“Me too.”
The confession comes out soft, stolen away on the wind. He shoots me a crooked smile.
“You looked good out there. I always liked watching you.” His voice dips. “Those training outfits and sexy little leotard costumes helped.”
“Cole!”
I give him a light shove, fighting a blush. He keeps us balanced, releasing a laugh that echoes off the trees.
“I had fun, though,” I say. “It was nice to do it again. I haven’t figure skated in years.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“Honestly? I just lost the spark for it. One second it was there, and then it just felt like a chore that was suffocating me. I only wanted to learn how to jump and spin fast, so it was less—shiny, I guess, once I learned how. I still love it, but my interest was pulled in another direction.”
I lost my motivation to continue with it once it felt like I knew enough about the skill that drew me to it in the first place. It feels too big to admit the other half of the truth—that he wasn’t at the rink anymore. Figure skating practice felt less fun without the time I got to share with him.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. You have to do what makes you happy. Otherwise you’d start to resent the things you used to love.”
“Exactly.” My grip on him tightens. “I’m glad you get it.
Sometimes it’s hard to explain to people what it’s like when something switches from fun to not in my brain.
They think I’m a quitter. When I’m interested, it’s all my ADHD wants to focus on—I live it and breathe it.
Then as soon as I’m not, everything just feels like… forcing myself through sludge.”
He chuckles. “I don’t think you’re a quitter. You’ve found other things to make you happy, right?”
“Yes. I’m happy now.”
“That’s good.”
“What about you, are you happy?”
He glances at me with an indecipherable look before answering. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“You like coaching for Heston U?”
“Love it.” This time he responds without hesitation. “I feel like the guys didn’t know what to make of me at first, but now we have a solid connection.”
He sounds the way I do when someone asks me about my designs. I squeeze his hand with both of mine.
A comfortable silence falls between us. It’s nice just existing with him.
“Sounds like people are starting to arrive for open rink time,” I say.
“I’ll give you a ride,” he offers.
I agree, following him to the exit. We wave goodbye to Vic and he helps me untie my skates without me asking.
He swings his keyring around his fingers on our way to his car, jogging ahead to open the passenger door for me. I tease him with a formal curtsey and he smirks, tugging on the pink and white polka dot scarf tied in my hair.
I love that he doesn’t complain when I fiddle with the radio to pick out music. Unlike my ex, he shoots me a smile that stirs butterflies in my stomach.
We’re only on the road for a minute before drowsiness blankets me. I can’t help relaxing around him, able to slow down because of the comforting effect his presence has on me. I blink slowly while Cole sings under his breath.
Warm and content, I give up the fight against my heavy eyelids and doze off.