Chapter 33 Juliette #2
“Beautiful,” he corrects. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you skate.”
“I’m out of practice.”
“You’re perfect.” He reaches over and pulls me closer. “Thank you for letting me see that.”
“Thank you for giving me a reason to do it again.”
We’re having a moment, a real, genuine moment in the middle of this crowded rink, when Goldie appears beside me with Mackie in tow.
“Okay, that was incredible,” Goldie says. “Please tell me you’ll give me lessons. I would pay actual money to learn to spin like that.”
“The secret is years of practice and probable inner ear damage,” I say dryly.
“Worth it.” She links her arm through mine. “Come on. Elliot is trying to teach Chloe how to skate backwards and it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I let her pull me away from Romeo, but not before he catches my hand and squeezes once.
The afternoon dissolves into exactly the kind of chaos Marnie predicted. Brody, naturally, ends up in the boards trying to show off. A group of kids commandeer one corner of the ice for an impromptu game of tag. The team splits into two groups for a scrimmage that’s more comedy than hockey.
I’m standing with the WAGs watching when I notice Mackie has gone very still beside me.
Her eyes are tracking someone on the ice.
I follow her gaze and find Almardon skating with a group of kids. He’s patient with them in a way that’s unexpectedly sweet, showing a little girl how to hold her stick properly, laughing when one of the boys tries to check him and bounces off like a pinball.
“He’s good with kids,” I say casually.
Mackie startles like she forgot I was standing there. “What?”
“Zach. He’s good with kids.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess.” She’s blushing now.
Goldie appears beside us. “Of course he is. He’s got three of his own back in Vancouver.”
I blink. “Wait, he does?”
“Oh, you haven’t heard the team theory?” Elliot joins us. “Almardon has a secret wife and kids in Vancouver. It’s the only explanation for why he rarely goes out with the guys.”
“That can’t be true,” I say.
“Is it? I’ve never seen him with a girl? He rarely goes to the bar nights? Anything?” Goldie raises her eyebrows.
I look back at Almardon with the kids. He’s patient and gentle, and... actually, now that they mention it, he is really good with them.
“He doesn’t have a secret family,” I say, but I’m not entirely sure anymore.
I glance over to where Romeo is currently arguing with Dex about something that probably doesn’t matter. As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks over and winks then he’s skating over to me with that smile that still makes my heart skip.
“Want to skate with me?” he asks, offering his hand.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I take his hand and let him pull me forward. We skate together, his hand warm around mine.
“This is nice,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I look up at him. “Thank you. For the blades. For tonight. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for everything.”
“I do when you make me this happy.”
He stops skating and pulls me closer, right there in the middle of the ice with his teammates and their families skating around us.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too.”
He kisses me and somewhere in the background someone, probably Dex, makes an exaggerated gagging sound. We ignore them.
“Playoffs start in two weeks,” he says when we break apart.
“I know.”
“You’re coming to every game, right?”
“Every single one.”
“Good.” He takes my hand and we start skating again. “Because I’m going to need you there to count my goals.”
I laugh because of course we’re still doing this. Of course the orgasm-per-goal arrangement is a permanent fixture of our relationship. “Are we still doing that?”
“JuJu, we’re always going to do that.”
Always. The word settles warm in my chest. Always means playoffs. Means next season. Means a future I’m not afraid to plan for anymore.
“So what happens when you score three goals?”
“You get three.”
“What if you score four?”
“Then you’re going to have a very good night.”
“What’s your record? Most goals in a game?”
“Three. Hat trick.”
“So I haven’t even had your best yet.” I’m teasing now, enjoying the competitive gleam that sparks in his eyes.
“Baby, you get my best every night.”
“Smooth.” I lean up and kiss his jaw. “But seriously, three is your record?”
“So far.” He pulls me closer as we glide across the ice. “I’ve been close a few times. Four goals isn’t unheard of. Five is rare but possible.”
“Five goals.” I pretend to consider this. “That seems ambitious.”
“That seems like a challenge.”
“Maybe it is.”
He stops skating and turns to face me fully, that smile on his face that means he’s about to say something either very romantic or very ridiculous. “I better start practicing.”
“For hockey or for after?”
“Both.”
I laugh and he spins me around, showing off in that way he does when he’s happy and relaxed and completely himself.
“Then I guess I better be at every game,” I say when we’re facing each other again. “So I know how many to expect.”
“Smart plan.” He kisses me once more, soft and sweet. “Very smart plan.”
We skate until my legs are tired and my face hurts from smiling. Until the kids start getting cranky and the adults start thinking about dinner. Until Marnie finally calls it and everyone starts filtering off the ice.
Romeo helps me with my skates, his fingers careful on the laces.
“You really love them,” he says. Not a question.
“I really love them.” I cup his face and kiss him properly. “And I really love you.”
“Good.” He grins against my lips. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”