Page 37 of King

She grins at me. “All right… I’m going to start easy with a single axel. This is the foundation of many figure skating skills.”

Willa builds up speed, her blades crisply slicing the ice. Her eyes are focused ahead, and I can see the determination in her expression. She approaches the jump with a smooth, forward glide on one foot, her body perfectly balanced. As she reaches the takeoff point, she pushes off from the outside edge of her left skate, launching herself into the air. My breath catches as I watch her leap, her body twisting in midair. It’s so fast I can’t tell how many times she goes around, but I’m thinking one and a half because she lands facing me on the back outside edge of her right skate.

She says she doesn’t skate that often, but she looks like she never left the ice. The single axel might be a foundational jump, but in Willa’s execution, it’s nothing short of breathtaking. She makes it look so effortless, her movements smooth and precise. As she skates back toward me, a smile lighting up her face, I find myself in awe of her talent and beauty.

Breezing by me, Willa does a few elegant spins and another small jump near where I stand. As she lands, her skate catches in a groove in the ice, and she stumbles forward. I react quickly, catching her in my arms, the force of her nearly knocking us both over.

I hold her for a long moment, her body pressed against me. Those pretty blue-gray eyes meet mine, and for a moment I wonder if I should kiss her. The thought lingers, making my heart race, but instead, I smile and ask, “Can you show me how to skate with you?”

She grins, pulling back slightly but still holding my hand. “Sure. Let’s start with some basics. I’ll show you how we can dance together on the ice.”

Willa positions herself in front of me. “Hold my hands like this,” she instructs, and I grip onto her. “Now, follow my lead. We’ll start slow.”

We begin to move, her guiding me through simple steps, our skates gliding in unison. Despite being a hockey player, this is different, more intricate. She leads me into a basic hold, her hands directing me to place one hand on her waist and the other holding her free hand.

“Keep your knees slightly bent,” she says, her voice low and encouraging. “And match my rhythm.”

We skate around the rink, our movements syncing, and I start to get the hang of it. We pick up speed, laughing and joking as we go. Willa’s laughter is infectious, and I find myself grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re doing great,” she says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Now, watch this.”

She turns around gracefully, skating backward while still holding my hands. “Just keep your eyes on me,” she says, guiding us around the rink. We continue to glide, our movements becoming more fluid and confident.

“This is amazing,” I say, marveling at how effortlessly she leads me. “You’re amazing.”

She blushes, her cheeks rosy from the cold and the compliment. “You’re not too bad yourself. Maybe if you want to ditch your hockey gig, we could try couples figure skating.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I think I’ll keep my day job.”

We continue to skate and it feels like we’re the only two people in the world, lost in this perfect moment together. Because we’re both athletes and are at home on the ice, we become more adventurous with our movements. Willa spins around to face me again, joy shining across her face. But just as we’re about to make another turn, I lose my balance and immediately loosen my hold on her hands. She doesn’t let go though and as I start to fall, she comes with me. Instinctively, I twist to take the brunt and we crash down onto the ice.

I hit the cold surface first, a dull thud reverberating through me. Willa lands on top of me, her weight cushioned by my body. The impact forces the air out of my lungs, but the sensation of her warmth against me quickly overrides any discomfort as we slide to a stop.

For a moment, everything is still. Her face is inches away, her breath mingling with mine in the cold air. Her eyes, wide with surprise, lock onto mine. Time seems to slow down, and all I can think about is how close she is, how perfect this moment feels despite our clumsy fall.

Without thinking, I lift my hand and gently place it behind her head, my fingers tangling in her hair. I feel the silkiness of it, and my heart races at the intimacy of the touch. Her eyes soften, and I can see the same emotions reflected in them—the surprise and undeniable attraction.

Slowly, I bring her face down to mine. Her lips are supple and warm, a gentle pressure that sends a jolt of electricity through my entire body. It’s a tender kiss, exploratory and sweet, yetit ignites something deep within. I feel her respond, her lips moving gently and following my lead, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t help but think how wonderful this is, how right it feels to be here with her like this. Her hands rest on my chest and I know she can feel my heartbeat thrumming. The kiss deepens slightly, our lips moving in perfect harmony, but I keep it tender with just the promise of something more.

When we finally pull back, her eyes are closed, her lips slightly parted. I take a moment to memorize the way she looks, the way she feels in my arms. When her eyes flutter open, they meet mine with a mixture of wonder.

“That was…,” she begins, her voice barely a whisper, but it trails off as if she can’t put into words the wonder of it.

I can only agree with the sentiment. “Yeah… it was.”

She smiles, a rosy blush spreading across her cheeks. “You’re not too bad at this,” she says playfully, her eyes twinkling.

I chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I could say the same about you.”

Despite the cold ice seeping through my clothes, Willa’s body on top of mine warms me through and through. She’s all soft curves that feel heavenly against me and I know if we kiss again, my body will react in a way that could be embarrassing.

So I make the move to break the connection, helping Willa up from the ice. I don’t let her hand go, instead entwining my fingers with hers as I lead her over to the bench.

“You hungry?” I ask, opening the wooden gate so she can step through.

“Starved,” she admits, plopping down with the picnic basket between us.

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