16. Chapter 16 #3
She hesitates, then carefully wraps her arms around my shoulders. I grip her thighs and lift. Her legs wrap around my waist, and her arms lock onto my shoulders.
“Now. Hold on.”
“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” she huffs against my ear.
“Give it five seconds.” I push off hard. The second we launch, she yelps, then squeals, then laughs—high, sharp, breathless—her head thrown back as the sound echoes across the empty rink.
I dig into a stride, then another. Jessica’s arms tighten around my shoulders, her legs squeezing my waist. I take a hard turn; the edges of my skates carve the ice so deep it hisses behind us.
The rink becomes a blur. Years of muscle memory take over.
Jessica is solid warmth pressed against me, trusting me not to let her fall.
Her laughter every time I go faster makes my adrenaline spike .
“Faster!” she screams. “Come on, Captain, you’re not even sweating!”
I laugh and dig in. We skate the full length of the rink, into a wide arc, then start slowing. I guide us to center ice and coast to a slow glide. She’s still giggling with her arms looped tight around my shoulders as if she never wants to get off.
“You alive back there?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.
She’s gasping. “That was… wow!”
I shift my grip on her thighs and her breath catches when I squeeze. I skate gently in circles before finally coming to a full stop.
I ease her down, hands on her thighs until her skates hit the ice again. She turns to me with a huge grin lighting up her flushed face.
Fuck me, she’s beautiful. That wild energy, that glow, that sparkle behind her eyes—I did that. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “That,” I say quietly, “is what it feels like to fly.”
“I loved it.” Her smile softens.
“I’m glad you did.” I pause, brushing my thumb along her jaw .
She tilts her head and squints up at me like she’s analyzing something. “Can you, like… do jumps?” She bites her lip. “Jump while skating.”
“I mean… yeah.” I’m not sure where she’s going with this.
“Can you do an axel?” she asks, eyes bright. “You know, that jump where you spin mid-air and land on one foot?”
I stare at her. “Do I look like a figure skater to you?”
“I don’t know. Do you own tights?” Her eyes sparkle.
“I’m a hockey player, Jessica. I’ve never done an axel in my life.”
“But you could, right?”
“No,” I say flatly.
“No?” she tilts her head.
“I’m not Sonja Henie.”
“Who?” she blinks.
“I’m not doing an axel,” I repeat.
She pouts. “Why not?”
“Because I like my knees attached to my legs.”
She shuffles closer and grips my sleeve. “Please? For me? ”
She says please, and suddenly I want to pull a rabbit out of a fucking hat for her. I’d juggle knives if it meant seeing that smile again.
What the fuck is happening to me?
“I’m doing this only if you earn it,” I say. “If I land it, you skate to me across the entire rink on your own.”
Her jaw drops. “That’s far, Dominic.”
“Guess you better start praying I fall.”
Her face shifts from amused to panicked. She crosses her arms. “Fine. I’ll skate to you,” she says, pausing with a wink. “If you land it.”
All right then. Let’s see if I survive this.
I skate to the edge, take a deep breath, and replay what I’ve learned over two decades of skating: the approach, knee bend, torque, air rotation, and landing backward on one foot. Right. Easy. I’m so fucked.
I take off slow, then faster, building momentum in tight crossovers. I bend my knees, angle my body, and hop.
Spin. Land.
My blade carves a clean arc as I glide out, arms out for balance. My chest heaves, but I’m standing. Both legs attached, ankles intact. Holy shit, I just did a fucking axel.
I skate backward to center ice, arms wide, expecting applause—and I fucking get it.
Jessica cheers, clapping and smiling. I’ve played in sold-out arenas, heard thousands scream my name, lifted trophies.
But her one giddy cheer thunders louder than all of them combined.
Something warm sizzles in my chest, and I reel it back.
“Now,” I say, skating backward and holding out both arms, “get your pretty ass over here.”
Jessica narrows her eyes. “You think my ass is pretty?”
“If you don’t hold up your end of the deal, I’ll make it prettier with my bite mark on it.”
Her cheeks flush and she scoffs, steeling herself and starting toward me—clumsy, stiff-legged. “Bend your knees a little,” I call. “Not that much… good. Slow pushes that pick up momentum naturally. Don’t look down.”
“I’m looking everywhere,” she says, wobbling.
“I can see that. ”
I let her go a few more feet before pushing off, gliding straight toward her, and catching her around the waist as her balance tips. Her hands grab my arms, breath shallow.
“You did good,” I murmur, steadying her.
She tilts her head up with a smug smirk. “And you’re having a good time with me.”
“I am,” I confirm with a nod.
“You’re not even gonna deny it?” Her brows shoot up.
“No.”
She blinks, then grins—perfect teeth and mischief. “I think you’re smitten, Captain.”
She yelps with a laugh as my hand lands on her ass. “Careful.” I lower my voice.
I know I should check myself; I don’t want this to end. But maybe there’s truth to that word she tossed at me—smitten. What does it feel like to be smitten? I don’t think I’ve ever felt it, but doing an axel just to see a girl smile is dangerously close.