Misha
How did my life come to this? I used to spend my days training, plotting, killing.
Yet here I am, looking up at neon lights blinking Ice Factory.
I understand the Rising Tide not letting me use their facilities to practice, but Teddy has a whole ass rink in his own backyard.
One that I convinced his sister to build for him, no less.
But no. “We don’t want to scare Abby.” I would give my life for Teddy or Ellie, but sure, let’s accommodate the woman Ellie met last week.
At least they booked the place out for us for the next few weeks, so I’ll have privacy for my skating struggles.
I need to calm down before I actually scare the poor girl away.
It’s not her fault I’m in such a bad mood.
It’s not even Teddy’s fault for not letting me practice at the compound.
I’ve been on edge lately because I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I should be in Russia right now, helping Mila.
It’s separation anxiety, and it doesn’t help that she’s limited me to once-daily check-ins.
For as long as I can remember, my sole purpose in life has been to serve her. My days were filled with orders, so without them, I’m spiraling. I spent my life training my brain to hyperfixate on Mila and now that she’s out of the picture...I don’t know what to do.
I tried to put all my effort and attention into Thatcher, since he is technically half of my assignment. It’s nothing against him, and I love him almost like a brother already. I would do anything for that man…but Jesus Christ, I can only spend so much time with the guy before I need some space.
The other half of my assignment is a delusion.
I hate to let Mila down, but I’m never going to fall in love.
I couldn’t be more happy for her and Thatch, but that kind of happiness isn’t in the cards for me.
Mila was born to be a queen, so it makes sense for her to have a partner at her side while she takes over the world.
But me…I was born to be a killer. I’ve had my fun with plenty of women, but that’s all it ever is. Fun.
The buzz of my phone brings me out of my reverie as I look down to see a text from Ellie.
Ellie: Good luck at practice today! Tell Abby I said hi ??
I send an eye-roll emoji, then pocket my phone as I finally gain the courage to walk into this shoddy ice rink. I’ve had more near-death experiences than I can count, but somehow, the idea of some sweet little librarian on skates has my heart rate up.
Punching in the code Teddy gave me, I open the door and make my way inside the old building.
It smells like a mix of cleaning products, popcorn, and must, but something nostalgic about it makes me smile.
It reminds me of the old arcades Mila and I would sneak off to occasionally as children in Russia.
“Hello?” My call travels throughout the building, echoing back as if I’m disturbing the ghosts of skaters past.
Nothing.
The lights are out in the front section, but the hall leading to the ice is blindingly bright, and a faint melody fills the lobby.
“Hello?” I call again as I enter the hall, but again, nothing.
It’s not until I have a full view of the entire rink that I realize why nobody answered.
The most mesmerizing figure I’ve ever laid eyes on moves across the ice so gracefully that I question my own reality.
It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. I’ve always said my favorite color was black, but now, as I stand here, I’m torn between the emerald green of the spandex hugging her curves and red, like her long, untamed hair.
Despite the chill from the ice, I’m overheating.
Perhaps it’s her fiery hair blowing behind her as she swirls, or maybe just my body’s visceral reaction to my attraction, but the longer I stare, the hotter I get.
It isn’t until the sweat beading on my forehead begins to fall that I know I can’t stand here ogling her any longer.
My skill at walking with skates on is almost as bad as skating, but I have a newfound reason to try.
I’ll be damned if the first impression this woman has of me is watching me fall on my ass.
I mean, I will undoubtedly fall on my ass, but at least I can earn some cool points before then.
And I’ll never do that walking like a baby giraffe.
In fact, not moving at all is probably the best possible scenario for a good first impression. I lean my shoulder against the wall in a way that accentuates my biceps and wait for her to skate back to this side of the rink before clearing my throat.
Immediate regret.
Whatever scenario I imagined, it’s not this.
The moment I catch her attention, she startles, losing her balance and tumbling to the ice.
I run toward her as quickly as I can with the skates on, fighting the urge to fall as well.
As soon as I reach her at the edge of the ice, I drop to my knees and help her sit up.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Abby, right? I’m Misha. I’m just going to do a little check to make sure you’re okay.”
She responds, but I’m too lost in my search for injury to make out the words.
You’ve done this a million times over, Misha, think…
head injuries, breathing issues, broken bones, and severe bleeding.
I start with her head and lungs, then move to her arms, gently squeezing the joints before moving to her knees and ankles.
I pause when I get to her ribs. Before now, my groping was completely clinical, but I can’t help but notice the way my hands fit around the small of her waist perfectly.
My fingers have a mind of their own, and I’m powerless against them as I trace the curve of her side.
She pulls away giggling, and I realize what a creep I must look like right now with my eyes closed.
“I’m fine, I promise. This isn’t the first time I’ve fallen on my ass, and I guarantee you, it won’t be the last,” she says, running her fingers through her hair.
“And here I was afraid I was going to be the one falling on their—”
Green it is, your favorite color is green.
She smiles, blinking big green eyes at me, and I melt.
It’s not like I haven’t admired a woman’s eyes before.
But there are pretty eyes, and then there are these.
The kind that have the power to look directly into the soul of their beholder.
God, I hope that’s not true. If it were, surely she would be running for her life by now.
Still, I wonder what she does think of me.
Even without knowing my history, I’m intimidating.
Tall, dark, handsome if I do say so myself, and covered in black ink.
Add in the fact that essentially my entire wardrobe is black, and I’m not fooling anyone for some picket-fence goody two-shoes.
That’s Thatcher, and Teddy when he’s not in Pakhan mode, but not me.
She stands so gracefully that I hardly notice, and she reaches a hand down to help me up.
I take it, of course, but almost lose my footing halfway as electricity pulses from where our hands meet.
Well, that’s new. Are these tingles? It really does feel a lot like shocks, and I’ve felt that before.
I’ve been electrocuted plenty of times, but I’ve never had tingles.
Interesting.
An overwhelming need to impress floods my senses, and my chest puffs on its own accord.
It’s intrinsic, like I’m a peacock flaring its feathers to mate.
I wish I could control myself right now because the same dumbass mating craze that’s taken over my body decides I should impress the incredible ice-skater with my macho-man skating ability… Fuck.
It takes all of three steps before I’ve humbled myself.
Abby grabs my arm to help steady me. “Whoa there, big guy, let’s slow down a bit. Today, we’re just going to do some drills to help me assess where to start with our training.”
We go through a series of drills that I can tell are beginner versions of the warm-ups Thatch and Teddy do.
Even still, I suck at them. Abby never lets on how horrible I’m doing, though.
She’s warm and encouraging, and I can see why she’s a teacher.
Being able to do something and coaching others to do it are totally different skill sets.
It took years for me to master the patience needed to properly train our soldiers.
To push each individual to their limit without breaking them.
This is the first time in years that I’m on the receiving side of lessons, and well…
I only hope I’m as good a coach to my men as Abby is to me.
Before I know it, or more like an eternity later, she’s guiding me off the ice to a table.
“Great first practice! I can really see some potential,” she says with a smile.
The most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.
I didn’t have much time to really take her in before, but here now, sitting so closely across from her, it’s all I can think about.
Her lips are the perfect cupid’s bow shape, plump, perfect for kissing and licking and…
don’t objectify her, you dog, this is your future wife, show some damn respect.
Moving back up to her eyes, I make a note to count the freckles that cover her button nose.
I’ll have plenty of time to do this while I’m watching her sleep.
And God, I could lose myself in her gaze.
If my enemies knew all it would take to bring me to my knees were the eyes on this woman, I would be long gone by now.
“Misha?”
“Oh sorry.” I blink back to reality. “Um, thanks, but I really sucked out there today.”
“No, you didn’t suck.” I would almost believe her if she didn’t give the smallest wince. She pauses, assessing me. “Let me ask you something. How’s your balance on land usually?”
“I have excellent balance. I, uh…think it was my skates. They’re a bit too small.”
“Oh!” She claps. “I’m sure there are some around here somewhere—”
“Oh no, that’s okay.” I pause as my macho-man-mating brain checks back in, unfortunately accompanied by a slightly deeper voice and yes, my proud chest. “They, uh, actually don’t even make them big enough to fit my feet.”
“Mm-hmm. Okay then, big guy, how about this? You can wear your regular shoes for a while while we build up some skills off the ice. WIll that work for you?”
“Off the ice?”
“Off the ice.” She digs through her bag and pulls out two apples. “Want one?”
I reach for my bag and pull out a pack of gummy bears. “No thanks. I prefer the good stuff.”
“That’s going to catch up to you one day.” She laughs and puts one of the apples back.
“I’ll take my chances. I’d rather be fat and happy anyway.”
“Easy for you to say, muscles. I’m sure you don’t feel the same way about your women.”
Is she insane? If she thinks I would care about some happy weight, she’s out of her mind. There’s no universe in which I would have my lady eating apples all day just to keep her figure. I can throw around twice her weight. If she wants to eat candy, I’ll feed it to her while she lies in bed.
Raising a brow, I stare into her eyes. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, lesnaya.”
Her breath hitches, but to her credit, she doesn’t falter long.
“Anyway, yes, on the ice. Here’s the thing.
I can tell you’re athletic and you, um, obviously have the strength.
It’s confidence you lack. And despite what you say, maybe even a little balance work.
So we’re going to simulate those movements on a solid surface for a while and gradually add in ice time.
” Abby smirks. “That is, as long as you can find big enough shoes.”
With a wink, I grab the apple from her hand and take a bite, tossing the pack of gummies at her for her to have instead.
“What are you even doing this training for anyway?” she asks, opening the bag and popping a few bears into her mouth.
“You know Ellie, right?”
She nods.
“So you know that her husband and brothers all play for the Thunder Bay Rising Tide Hockey team?”
She nods.
“I’m really close to them, and they wanted someone on or near the ice at all times for…security. The problem is, none of their usual bodyguards have experience on the ice. They trust me implicitly, so here I am, learning how to skate with you.”
“You’re telling me out of everyone, you’re their best option?” She chuckles.
“Wow,” I gasp. “You know what? No more treats for you, meanie.”
I snatch the bag back and grab a handful. “Gowd this is sho much better than apple,” I mumble with a mouth full.
She laughs, and I notice for the first time that even though I’m still dripping sweat, she’s not even flushed.
What is it about the women in my life never getting winded? Wait, is Abby technically considered a woman in my life yet?
The answer arrives immediately.
Yes.
“So we’re doing this every day, right? Isn’t that what Ellie said?”
“Oh, I can’t do it every day but—”
“Abby, let’s be honest, if we are going to have me skating convincingly in the next month, it’s going to have to be daily.”
“Misha, I have a job! I can’t just—”
“We’ll figure it out. For starters, when can you meet again?”
“Hmm…” Abby snatches the candy back. “Two days?”
“Done.” I extend my hand to seal the deal. The moment our fingers touch, it’s those damn tingles.
Yep. Abby is going to be in my life, whether she knows it or not.