Page 136 of Ice Mechanic

“We’re pretty normal. My mom and dad are both business owners. My sister is married and lives out of state. We don’t get together often enough to have drama.”

Thanks to my internet search I’m aware that Chance’s parents are more than simple ‘business owners’, but I don’t think correcting him about how he views his family’s wealth is the right thing to do.

“Hm.” I move my attention from him to the crisp feel of the wind on my face as we skate. Being on the ice no longer feels as awkward since I’m not in fear of landing hard and cracking my knee.

This isn’t half bad.

“I think I can try on my own,” I tell him.

“You sure?” Chance asks, watching me closely.

I nod.

“Okay. Move your feet out like this.” He shows me. “And if you feel like you’re about to fall, don’t make your movements big and wild or you might land backwards. Instead, fall forward, okay?”

“Okay.”

He releases my hands and I wobble a fair bit but manage to keep going on pure momentum. Chance finally stops skating backwards and moves beside me.

“Speaking of my family,” Chance says casually, “my mom supports a non-profit children’s organization.”

“How nice,” I mumble.

“They have a ball every year to raise donations.”

“Oh.” A ‘ball’ sounds like a ‘rich people’ word. Why not just call it what it is—a party? “That’s nice.” I keep my concentration focused on gliding my feet the way Chance taught me.

“I was wondering if you’d come with me,” he says.

My eyes whip up to his. “As in meet your parents?”

“Well… yeah.”

At that moment, I lose all my balance and catapult to the ice.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-NINE

CHANCE

After the fall,April loses interest in skating, so I take her to the local bookstore for some hot chocolate.

She’s already blasted through the book I gave her on our date, so I offer to buy a book for her.. At the promise of more mechanic books, a smile finally returns to her face.

One hour and a surge of selfies with unexpected fans later, we walk out of the bookstore carrying an untouched cup of not-so-hot chocolate for me and a history book on the development of the car manufacturing press for April.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, glancing over. I’m driving April’s truck. I wasn’t letting her drive after watching her hit the ice earlier.

“Mmhm. While you were taking pictures with everyone, I read a couple pages. Did you know that the first car manufacturing company started in France in the 1900s?” Her eyes dance with delight.

April’s eyes should be studied. They’re a shade of green so deep that a man could drown in them.

“Wow,” I say with as much exuberance as I can. “The 1900’s? That’s… that’s really interesting.”

April bursts out laughing.

I rub the back of my neck sheepishly.

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