EMMA
Max was already waiting by the entrance, his broad shoulders filling out his dark coat. His hands were shoved into his pockets, as if he had been standing there for a while. He smiled when he saw me, and it was the kind of smile that made you feel warmer despite the cold.
“Hi, Em.”
While walking inside, the air changed, getting sharper and chillier with that unmistakable smell of ice. The rink looked beautiful under the soft lights, but I stopped in my tracks when I realised the place was completely empty.
“Why are we here?” I asked, a little suspiciously.
“Because,” Max said, with a smug look on his face, “I need to get you on the ice.”
My scream resonated off the rafters. “No, Max. No, absolutely not. I’ll fall, and then what?”
He chuckled, already taking off his coat. “Baby, I’m not letting you fall.”
“Don’t you ‘baby’ me,” I shot back, pointing a gloved finger at him. “Nope. Nope, nope, nope. And wipe that smirk off your face while you’re at it. I’m not going on the ice.”
His smirk only got bigger. “Oh yes, you are. If I’m salsa dancing, you’re skating.”
“You hated salsa!”
“And I still did it,” he said, triumphantly. He pulled out a pair of white skates from behind a seat and held them out like a magician showing off his trick.
I stared. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He sat down on the bench, patting the space next to him. “Emma, I get slammed into by two-hundred-pound guys every week and stay on my feet. I can sure as hell keep you upright for an hour.”
I groaned, but the absurdity of the situation made me laugh, and despite my better judgment, I sat down beside him and took off my boots and pulled on the skates. “If I end up in hospital…”
“You won’t,” he said and crouched down to tighten the laces. His hands were steady and strong, and seeing him tie my skates so carefully made something tight squeeze in my chest.
“Up you get,” he said, holding out his hand.
The first steps were very humiliating. My ankles wobbled like they were made of string. I held on to his arm so tight he must have felt my panic.
“Relax,” Max softly said, standing very still beside me. “Don’t look down. Look at me.”
“I’m going to die.”
“No, you’re not. Trust me.”
And I did. His calm tone made me relax my grip, straighten my back, and just try. One step, then the next. To my surprise, I found my balance quickly. The wobbles got better. Instead of biting the ice, my skates were skimming it.
“There you go,” Max said, with pride in his voice. “I knew you’d get it.”
We went around in a slow circle a couple of times. In the beginning he was still holding my hand. He let go after a few rounds, but his hand kept brushing mine, making sure I knew he was still around to catch me if I fell. I started to relax and actually smiled.
When we got off the ice and clattered back to the benches, I felt strangely excited. We took off our skates and walked up to the stands. There was no sound except for the faint hum of the refrigeration units.
I tucked my hands into my lap, the adrenaline slowly fading away. “I haven’t asked you about your holidays yet. How were they?”
He leaned back, stretching his long legs. “Very loud. Late. Half of the team ended up in Will’s condo on New Year’s Eve. Someone set off fireworks from the balcony. I don’t know how they didn’t burn the place down. Christmas was better. Grace and her family. Like always.”
“No one else?” I asked gently. I understood why he didn’t see his father anymore, but I was curious about why he hadn’t said anything about his mother.
His jaw tightened. He didn’t answer right away, which made me wonder if I had pushed too far. Then, slowly, he said, “I don’t see my mom anymore. My father, for obvious reasons, but I’m not in touch with her either.”
I turned towards him and waited.
He dragged a hand down his face and exhaled.
“I told you my father hit me. But he turned out to be my stepfather. I didn’t know he was my stepfather until I turned eighteen.
Grace and I came home early one day and walked right into a fight between him and my mom.
He was yelling that he was done paying for another guy’s bastard.
He told me I wasn’t his problem anymore since I had a scholarship. ”
I wanted to reach for him, to offer comfort, but I stayed still, sensing he needed space.
Max’s voice was rough now and lacked his usual humour. “It turns out my mom had an affair. The guy died in a car crash before I was born. My stepfather took her back, but… he took out his anger on me. And she knew. She knew and let it happen, lying to me for years.”
“Max,” I whispered, my throat thick.
He shrugged, but it was a weak gesture. “I don’t have any contact with him at all. I don’t really talk to her. She lied. She let it happen. That’s where we are now.”
My hand moved before I could stop it, as if my body understood before my mind did. His knuckles were cold and tense. I squeezed his hand, firm but gentle, until he finally looked at me.
“Do you think you’ll ever let her back in?”
He swallowed before answering. “I don’t know.”
I moved closer and rested my head on his shoulder.
I felt his warmth and strength, along with the steady rhythm of his breathing.
A few seconds later, his head leaned against mine.
We sat like that for a while, the two of us in the empty stands, with the rink below us, pale and quiet.
Nothing else mattered – just the trust he had given me and the easy way we fit together in the cold.
“You weren’t terrible, you know,” he said, his voice a little lighter. “Your legs did the Elvis on the first lap, but after that… not bad.
“High praise from a pro. Just so you know, I consider tonight full repayment for salsa.”
He tilted his head, mock wounded. “Full repayment? Not even close. Next time, we’re doing crossovers.”
I groaned. “Next time? You seem pretty sure there’ll be one.”
“There will be,” he said, certain as anything. “I’ll get you a hot chocolate. With extra marshmallows.”
“That’s shameless bribery,” I said, laughing under my breath. “And… effective.”
He nudged my shoulder, grinning. “So, ready to call it a date yet?”
I held his gaze for a bit longer than I meant to, my smile lingering. Then I shook my head. “No.”
We fell quiet again, the silence wrapping around us. I put my head back on his shoulder, and he leaned in, warm and easy, as if we’d always belonged there.