Chapter 7
SEVEN
Asher
It’s been years since I’ve stood in line for ice skate rentals.
I spent a good chunk of weekends from middle school all the way through high school practicing at the Madison Events Center, secretly hoping there would be a scout in the bleachers and I’d get picked to play professionally for some college team.
Turns out there was a scout in the audience for a few of those games, but I sucked big time.
Even with my dream dashed, I’m getting a pang of nostalgia being in proximity to the rink.
With the sound of the dull blades clacking against the ice, the odd, almost chemical smell from the Zamboni, and the way the temperature drops as soon as you walk through the gate.
Skating always felt a lot like flying, and something I can do without the risk of exposure.
It’s why when I noticed the ice skating rink was finally open for the season, I jumped at the chance to take her.
We’ve been texting each other back and forth since the agreement, sometimes spending most of the night sending each other videos, which I’ve learned is something she loves to do. Which is why I’ve started looking for specific ones to send her to get a positive response.
My social media algorithm has morphed into an amalgam of cute animals, wholesome videos and illustrations, which feature even more cute animals saying clever phrases.
I knew I was a goner the moment I nearly sent her a photo of two cats cuddling with the text caption “us.” Nearly.
It’s good to know I still have some wits about me.
Don’t get me wrong, I would send her a thousand cat photos, but I need to remind myself this is a fake relationship. I need to keep myself from getting too invested. We are playing a part. Soulmate or not.
“Which ones do we need?” She asks, pressing close to my side to get a good look at the rental skates.
“You’re going to get those pretty white ones.” I point, my finger drifting from the standard ones to the hockey skates, “I’m getting those bad boys.”
Penny rocks onto the balls of her feet, and I try to ignore the smell of her perfume.
Wildflowers with the sharp bite of something else—the unique combination has me imagining myself chasing her through a field and tackling her until the scent covers us both.
I hope it lingers; I want to keep as much of her as I can.
“Hey, why do you get the fancy ones?” She gives me an adorable frown.
“Because I can’t shove my size 13 feet into your cute skates. It’s also easier to learn on the classic skates. See the little jagged edge at the tip of the blade? Those are your brakes.”
“Do any of them come with an extra set of training wheels?” Penny turns her attention back to the skates.
“That’s what I’m here for.” I squeeze her hand, and she gives me one in return almost immediately. “You’re going to be holding onto me until you feel comfortable. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
She smiles her green eyes shining as her gaze flits to my lips. There it is again, the harsh pang of hope pressing against my sternum.
Penny squeezes my arm and moves closer, her breasts straining against the thin black lace of her bra peeking out from her green dress. The sight alone makes my cocks swell to a near uncomfortable size within my sheath.
I turn away immediately.
This never happens. Not outside of the indulgent fantasies I allow myself in the middle of the night, the ones which consist of Penny climbing up my bed, peppering kisses across my stomach and chest. . . No, I need to control myself.
Quick! Think of something else, like doing inventory after Christmas or the one time Clark’s tabletop character tried, and failed, to dispose of a Minotaur while there was a basilisk loose in the dungeon. Yep. That does it.
The line moves, and we give the rental attendant our sizes, and then walk out into the main area.
“You ready?” I ask.
She holds up her skates and curls her slender fingers around my bicep, before giving it a squeeze, “As I can be.”
Minotaur. Minotaur. Minotaur.
“Do you think this is tight enough?”
I straighten, ignoring the way my cocks stir again at the question, and look at Penny's extended leg, showing off the pair of borrowed off-white ice skates.
The answer is almost always no, especially for new skaters.
“Hm.” I reply, the sound stuck in my throat, “Here, let me help.”
She watches as I rest the skate on my thigh, loosening the laces down to the center and pulling them tight one by one all the way up, without missing the metal hooks at the top.
“Oh.” Penny gasps, “So it’s like a corset for your feet.”
“A little.” I smile up at her, the way she chews on her bottom lip almost drives me to distraction as I finish the other skate and slap the side of the shoe.
The blades thunk against the carpet, and I carefully pull her to her feet, instructing her on how to walk with the skates and prepping her for the feeling of ice under her feet.
Even the short walk from the benched area to the rink is bringing back fond memories of late-night trips and walking out into the warm balmy air during the off season.
There aren’t many other people on the ice, so I don’t have to worry about anyone bullying us or running into her. It looks like a couple of high school kids playing around, with a few of their friends hanging out around the edge watching and some solitary skaters lost in their own little world.
“You’re telling me you did this when you were seven years old?” Penny asks, threading our fingers together and pulling my hand close to her chest as she struggles to maintain her balance.
“Imagine my father’s surprise when I asked for a pair of skates for Christmas one year. I had never set foot on the ice, but one of my friends at school played hockey.”
She smiles to herself, focusing on her steps across the carpet, “You know, I enjoyed watching the figure skaters during the Olympics. It was on my list of things I wanted to be when I grew up, along with the second in command on a spaceship, oh, and a lawyer.”
“Why second-in-command? Why not captain?” I ask, stepping out onto the rink and turning towards her with my arms outstretched.
“I don’t think I could cut it.” She gives me a smile, grabbing hold of my hands and toeing the ice like she’s testing the temperature. “Before you say a word, it’s true. Ask any of my siblings. I’m a complete pushover.”
“Same goes for the dream of becoming a lawyer?”
Penny nods, “You catch on quick. I got as far as mock trial in high school.”
“Gently,” I murmur, keeping her steady as she attempts to glide, her movements still shaky, clinging to my forearms with an iron grip.
“What about you? Did you want to be a pro hockey player?”
“For about a year, yeah. Then I wanted to be a fireman, but I ultimately went to college and changed my major every other semester until I landed on history. Only to end up owning a game store.” I’m struck by the absurdity of it all.
“History must come in handy, though.” She says, squeezing my forearm as she glides forward, “All those battles and political intrigue to add to your campaigns.”
“You’re right. I never thought of it that way.” I smile, slowly loosening my grip as she becomes more sure on her feet, moving to her side to shield her from the flow of ice skaters around us, including the little old lady in leopard print leggings doing laps which put me to shame.
Soon she settles into a steady pace, holding onto my hand as we make our way around the rink and talking about anything and everything.
After 5 o’clock, the sun sets, and bright LED string lights along the edge of the rink flick on, making the ice nearly glow. Penny lets go of my hand, emboldened by the change, and starts skating on her own with slow, measured movements.
I smile, keeping at a safe distance beside her.
The lights have brought out more skaters, their laughter and chatter whizzing by as we slowly make our way around the rink.
There’s a sharp laugh from behind us, and I glance over my shoulder.
The next moment I hear her blades click loudly against the ice, and turn in time to see Penny stumbling forward, her arms wheeling, as she tries to grab the edge of the barrier.
I surge forward, my heart racing in my chest as I wrap my arms around her waist.
“Are you okay?” I ask, brushing her hair out of her face.
“Yeah, I think I hit a rough patch.” She bites out a hiss as she stands. “Ah.”
“Hold on tight.” I say, guiding her arm over my shoulder.
“Asher, it’s fine. I can make it back.”
She tightens her grip as I slide an arm behind her knees, hoisting her up against my chest with one swift movement. I cut a path straight across the ice, dodging the other skaters until I hit the carpet and set her down gently on the benches.
“I should have double-checked the skates.” I say, loosening the ties and slipping them off of her feet, my hands go to her ankles, tenderly checking for injury.
“It’s okay. It’s just a light sprain. I’ve twisted my ankle walking on the sidewalk before.”
I shake my head, “I shouldn’t have let go of you.”
“Asher.” Her hands cup my cheeks, directing my face upwards.
I catch the sparkle of her green eyes before she presses her soft lips to my forehead, lingering there, the sound of her breath drowned out by the thudding of my pulse in my ears.
She stares at me as I pull away, the thoughtful look in her eyes fades and her eyes widen.
“I—” Penny stammers as her hands fall to my shoulders.
I push up onto my knees and close the distance between us. Her pink cheek fits perfectly in my palm as I tangle my fingertips in her golden blonde hair.
Penny sighs, nothing more than a puff of air on my lips as I cover her mouth with my own. Above us, the tinny PA system belts out the chorus from ‘My Heart Will Go On’ by Celine Dion.
One, two, three seconds, or an eternity passes while I’m caught in her touch. Wishing to sink into her soft curves, to feel her body pressed against me, her weight settled across my thighs as she grinds down against my cocks.
The sound of cheers breaks us apart, the group of teenagers clapping and hollering while the older skaters leer in our direction.
Penny clears her throat and gingerly pushes me away.
“Can’t say I’ve ever had this large of an audience.” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
“I guess there’s a first time for everything.” She laughs, letting her hand drag down my chest.
I want to be her first, her last, her everything.