Page 42 of From Fling to Ring

She play-slaps my arm and looks over at the ice again like it’s boiling lava. “Are you always this encouraging with beginners?”

“Only the snarling ones.”

She rolls her eyes. “I guess it’s just really cold water. Only really slippery,” she says quietly.

“Yes, Lucy, that’s literally what ice is. Now, what is your shoe size? I’m gonna run and get you some skates.”

She purses her lips. “Eight,” she says after a moment, like she’s waiting for me to give up.

Like that’s gonna happen.

I rush off before she changes her mind, even though I haven’t yet actually gotten her to yes, and return with some rental skates that have definitely seen better days. But hell, it’s not like she’s going to be doing spins.

I kneel in front of her and pull off her sneakers. “Help me out a little. Slide your foot in here.”

She sighs and cooperates, and in a minute, I’ve got her laced up and ready to go. I take her hand and she wobbles over the rubber floor to the ice. I step over the threshold and take both her hands as she gingerly steps over it and onto the ice.

She squeezes her eyes shut like she’s terrified, and I wonder for a moment if maybe I pushed her too hard. But the fact is, she’s going to be fine.

“Hey, baby,” I say, “if you don’t open your eyes, you won’t be able to see where you’re going.”

She opens an eye and looks around, then slowly opens the other like the smartass that she is. “Fine. They’re open. Now I will be able to see what happens in the last moments of my life.”

And I thought my dad was dramatic.

I inch back a little until she skates forward so she can get the feel of the ice. “Lean toward me a little. Okay, now bend your knees a little and push off with your toe.”

She follows my instructions just enough force to propel herself another couple inches. Her eyes widen. “That was cool!”

“And… you’re still alive.”

I skate backwards, pulling her, and in seconds, we’re slowly making our way down the length of the ice.

Slowly.

With a shriek, she stumbles, of course, because that’s what everyone does when they’re learning.

“You know, this is just ice, not a minefield.”

“Easy for you to say. You were practically born with blades attached to your feet. The scariest thing I’ve ever worn are four-inch heels.”

I pick up our speed, so slowly I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even notice. But I do. Her blonde curls swing and bounce in the breeze we’re creating and I really, really wish my hands were free so I could take a picture.

“Four-inch heels sound a lot scarier to me than ice skates.”

“I get that. I suppose they can be just as deadly.”

I let go of one of her hands and move next to her so we can skate side-by-side. At first, she looks at me with horror, like I am completely abandoning her, but when she realizes she’s able to remain upright, she relaxes. Somewhat.

“Look, you’re dating a hockey player. You must know that at some point you are expected to spend some time on the ice.”

She looks over at me with a smirk. “Is that what we’re doing? Dating?”

Ugh. The ninety-day expiration nags in the back of my mind, but I push it away. I’ll deal with that mess later.

I let go of her hand and switch sides to give her a feel for being on her own. “I guess you could say we’re banging, but that’s not really used in polite company.”

“Is that what you and your manly teammates call it? Banging?”

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