Page 38 of Back On Ice

“I just grabbed the first sleep shirt I could find,” she says defensively.

“But you kept it. All these years, even with what I did, you kept my hockey shirt.”

“It’s… it’s a really soft shirt.” She smiles a little, the awkwardness between us fading a bit. I’ll let the shirt thing go, but seeing her wearing it… well, it gives me almost as much hope as last night did.

Sophie turns her attention to her computer and I settle in, happy to be in the moment with her. She starts typing and it’s clear her focus has shifted from us to something else.Has to be work. I sip my coffee contentedly. She glances up with a quirk to her lips. “Don’t tell my mom I’m working.”

A chuckle escapes me. “Your secret’s safe.” Sophie deflates, a faux sigh of relief escaping her, so I ask, “But… why can’t she know?”

Sophie takes a sip of the coffee I made her and moans. “You made thatperfectly.” She takes another sip before putting it down. “Mom banned me from working this weekend. She says that I don’t take any days off.” She rolls her eyes even though I’m pretty sure her mom is correct on that front. “They can keep me from entering the Twin Rinks and the flower shop, but they can’t stop me from going over their finances.”

“What a rebel.” I smile over the rim of my mug.

Damn.

Thatissome good shit.

“It’s like a puzzle.” She’s so entranced by the numbers on the screen, she doesn’t even look at me when she talks. “It’s my favorite part of any of my jobs. Numbers make sense. I don’t have to decide if two plus two equals four—it just is. The correct answer always comes through, you just have to find it.”

I’ve never heard anyone so enthusiastic about… accounting.

It’s soothing watching her work. When she bites her lip and scrolls, I can tell she’s looking for something specific. Then her eyes widen just the slightest bit before a triumphant smile lights up her face, and she’s typing away again.

She always loved math in high school. It brings me back to watching her across one of our parents' kitchen tables as we worked on homework together. She would catch me staring and turn the cutest pink color.

After a while of watching and guessing what’s going on with the numbers based on her facial expressions, I say, “Do you want to come with me to meet with the developer?”

“Hmm, I think I’ll get in trouble with my mom if I do that.” She shoots me a wink before turning her attention back to the screen. “Can you just fill me in later? I really need to get this done anyway.”

“Yeah, no worries. I’ll text you later.” Taking my chances, I lean in and give her a peck on the cheek. She reddens slightly, but doesn’t push me away. I feel like we really reconnected last night, which eased some of our tension, but it’s going to take a little extra time—and some groveling on my part—to get completely into her good graces again.

“See you later, Angel,” I murmur next to her, nipping her ear playfully and earning a little yelp in return. Her eyes are heated as I pull away.

I can wait, but I’m only human.

Grinning, I leave her house, taking a rideshare to the hotel to change and pick up my car before going to Twin Rinks. I feel better than I have in months. Hell, in years even.

“George!” I greet the contractor with a hearty handshake and clap on the shoulder when I enter the rinks. “Were you waiting long?”

“Not at all.” He grins. “Are you ready to go over the contract and we can get things going once we get Ms. Hartwell’s and the council’s approval?”

“Let’s do it, we can sit in the bleachers.”

An hour later, I’m sitting in the Twin Rinks lobby as the sound of kids showing up for hockey practice fills the air, a stark reminder of why we’re here, trying to save this place. George and I have gone through every revision and item that needs updating, and I take a copy to bring to Sophie and the council.

“Would you give this one to the council as well?” George asks, pulling a packet of papers from his bag.

“What is it?” My brow furrows in confusion as I take it from him.

“It’s an alternate proposal that one of the council members asked for. He said it wouldn’t pass, but he wanted to see it down in writing anyway.”

I’m about to flip through the packet when he claps me on the shoulder. “Once we get both signatures, we can get started the next day. You just let me know.”

“You got it, George.” I smile at him as he walks away, and it finally feels like things are going well. I made headway with Sophie, the rinks are coming together, and still not a peep from Dad.

I find myself with my hands braced on the side of one of the rinks, staring out at the ice as one of the practices starts. The kids begin with warm-ups, skating laps around the rink. So many memories flash through my mind. Playing with my high school team, going skating with Sophie on the weekends, watching her games with her rec team…

“Carter, my man! How are you? It’s been too long.” My head turns to find a guy who looks vaguely familiar, all up in my space and smiling at me like we’re best friends. My eyes narrow as I try to place him. His blonde hair is styled neatly, longer on the top and shorter on the sides. And while he seems like he might work out, he doesn’t carry himself in a way that would suggest that he played sports in high school.

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