Page 59 of Head Over Skates

He grins, holding back a laugh. “Okay… so we’re on the ice. The puck drops…”

“No puck.”

“No puck? Okay.”

“And no stick.”

He pulls a face. “No puck and no stick? That’s not even hockey. That’s just… skating. That’s figure skating, Emily.”

“I don’t make the rules.”

“You are exactly making up the rules right now.”

I shrug.

“Okay.” He leans away, rubbing his beard between his thumb and fingers. “So… are there lifts and flips and toe loops?”

“Definitely toe loops,” I say, already feeling the sensation of my tummy flipping and spinning wherever he’s this close to me.

“Anything else?”

“Um… nope. That about covers it.”

He’s silent for a while, thinking. “But we wouldn’t be dating? No feelings? Only… the physical stuff?”

I cringe. He makes it sound so base. Like I only want him for his body. Which I do. Very much. But it’s more complicated than that. When I go in, I goaaalllin, and I don’t know where to stop. The few relationships I’ve had ended with me giving everything. Risking more. Loving harder. Losing myself in the other person. And none of themeverreturned a fraction of the love I gave. I’ve only known heartache and rejection. And so there’s this wall around my heart now. It’s a nice wall. With flowering vines and lush greenery. I’m happy with my wall.

“Only kisses,” I confirm. Don’t want all these weird hockey metaphors to confuse him. EvenI’mconfused.

“No commitment?”

I hesitate for a sec. That’s a good thing, right? Guys don’t like commitment.

“That is correct.”

He frowns. Did I say the wrong thing? Why do I self-sabotage like this? I should have just let him kiss me. But I’m afraid of the after. The drive back to the city. The flight home. The working at the same place.

He backs away, looking at me with an expression I can’t read. It’s not a happy one, I can tell you that.

“Are you interested in another guy, Emily? Is that it?”

“No. I just don’t want to complicate things, that’s all.”

“And dating me would be complicated?”

“Any time expectations are involved it gets complicated. I really want you to kiss me. A lot. But I’m making it simple for you. You don’t have to buy me flowers or check in with me all the time. Isn’t that what every guy wants?”

A cold shimmer slices in his eyes. “Not this guy. Not me.”

My stomach plummets to my skates. I’m messing this up. I’m disappointing him. And on his birthday! Here I am, thinking I was giving him an easy, fun distraction. A girl with no expectations whatsoever. Someone who won’t corner him or pin him down. The opposite of the old ball and chain. But all I’m doing is letting him down.

“I’m sorry,” I say, looking down at our skates. The ice is well used here. It needs resurfacing soon.

Owen doesn’t speak for a long, long while. So long, in fact, that if I weren’t staring at his skates, I’d think he was gone. The only sound is my breathing and the thundering of my heart.

At length, I chance a look up at him. His jaw is clenched, and he’s looking thoughtfully into the distance. He doesn’t even want to look at me now.

The silence is killing me. Forget being friends with benefits. I just need to know we’re okay.

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