Page 46 of Hate to Love You

“I don’t know, Davies. Maybe he just wanted you guys to be okay with each other,” I suggest. I’m grasping at straws.

“Well, that’s definitely not going to happen in this lifetime. He made his choice.” Natalie’s voice breaks. “And it wasn’t me.”

I clench her fingers, wishing there was more I could do. “Maybe you just need to give it time.”

Not saying a word, she stares out the window.

Just as we’re pulling into the parking lot of her building, I realize that I don’t want to let her go. Impulsively, I ask, “You want to go somewhere?”

Her expression immediately turns suspicious.

I can’t resist the chuckle that escapes. “I’m not going to take you back to my house, okay? Sheesh.”

She bites down on her lip looking as though she’s trying to rein in a smile. “What do you have in mind?”

“You’ll see.” Considering how upset she is, an almost-there smile seems like a small victory. “Grab a jacket and let’s go.”

Her brows draw together, and I see the questions swirling in her eyes. Before she can ask them, I say, “It’s a surprise, Davies. Just grab a jacket and you’ll find out soon enough.”

In a shocking turn of events, she does exactly as I say. Guess there’s a first time for everything. Of course, I’m smart enough not to mention that to Natalie.

Fifteen minutes later we pull into the city ice arena parking lot. This is the place where I first started out playing Mini-Mites when I was four years old. I hope it’ll take her mind off what’s bothering her, if only for a little while.

“You brought me to a skating rink?” She shoots me a skeptical look as we exit the truck.

“Yep.”

Confused, she asks, “So…what are we going to do here?”

I grab hold of her fingers and tug her along when she stops and stares at the huge white building. “We’re going to do a little something called skating. Maybe you’ve heard of it before?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I try.” Especially around her. “We’re strapping blades on your feet, and I’m taking you out on the ice.” I raise a brow in challenge. “Do you know how to skate, Davies?”

“I took a few lessons.” She pauses and adds, “When I was seven.”

“Then you’ll be fine. It’s just like riding a bike.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking it might be a bit harder than that. I seem to remember falling on my ass quite a bit.”

With our hands clasped, I tow her through the automatic doors and into the arena. We head toward the rental booth and grab two pairs of skates. Then we move to a bench outside the rink so we can change. When we’re both laced up, I stand and hold out my hand for her to take. There’s something strangely natural about having her smaller one ensconced in mine.

I like it.

And I like her.

There are three rinks with full sheets of ice at the arena. One of the rinks has open skate for the next two hours. The metal door leading to the ice is open. I step out first and turn to Natalie. “You ready?”

She sucks in a lungful of cold air and nods. This time, she reaches for me. I steady her as she finds her bearings on the slippery sheet. When she doesn’t immediately fall, a smile blooms across her face. Her eyes seek out mine.

“See? Easy as pie,” I say.

“We’ll see.”

The first time around, we take it slow. A couple of kids who can’t be more than eight years old whiz past us. Natalie is stiff, her body too upright. Every time she tips too far in one direction or digs the toe pick into the ice, she throws her arms out wide in an attempt to regain her balance. The second time around, she loosens up and we gain some speed. She finds her rhythm, alternating between pushing off and gliding. By the time we hit our third lap, we’re moving at a good clip. The eight-year-olds are still passing us, but that’s okay. Natalie’s not as tense and awkward. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold and a huge smile lights up her face.

From day one, I thought she was beautiful. When she smiles like that, she’s absolutely stunning.

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