Page 56 of Back On Ice

It doesn't sit right with me to justleave. I stand and walk over to the edge of the rink. “I can stay and help clean up?—”

Tom isn’t having it. “Nope. You don’t worry about a thing, Soph. I’ve got it. You two have a good time.”

“Okay,” I concede, “Thanks, Tom.”

“Now,” Carter puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him, “why don’t you go home and get changed and I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

My brow raises and I suppress a smile, my lip quirking slightly to the side. “You mean you don’t want to take me out in a ratty shirt and my Twin Rinks hoodie?”

Carter presses a soft kiss to my lips and murmurs, “You would bring me to my knees wearing a fucking paper bag, Angel, but I have a feeling you’ll want to get changed for our date.”

“Okay.” I swallow. “I’ll see you in an hour?”

He flashes me that panty-melting smile he keeps in his arsenal. “I can’t wait.”

Chapter Twenty Three

SOPHIE

“We’re going to Little Italy?”My voice is excited as I look back and forth between Carter and the restaurant in front of us. I haven’t been here in… years. It was always the family favorite for birthdays and special occasions, and Carter came with us more than once. It’s in Willow Creek, so I haven’t really had a reason to come out.

“Is that okay? I know it’s kind of a tradition for your family,” he asks, looking almost nervous.

“Of course it’s okay,” I tell him, unbuckling my seatbelt and opening my door. “I haven’t been here in so long. If you listen closely, the Fettucini Alfredo is calling my name.”

Carter laughs as he gets out of the car and comes to my side. As we walk into the restaurant, hand-in-hand, my heart fills with… something I don’t want to name right now.

Once we’ve sat, Carter takes my hand across the table. “I should have taken you here on our first date, instead of that other restaurant.”

“Don’t worry about that any more.” I smile reassuringly. “In case you don’t remember, we ended up having averygood time that night.” Memories of that night in the truck bed nearly lights my body on fire, and I’m wishing he had kept that rental.

“I know, but it’s more than that.” He sighs. “When I would come here with you guys, I always wished that I could take you here on a date.”

My brow furrowed. “I’m confused. Why wouldn’t you have been able to?” It couldn’t have been a matter of money. My family was firmly middle class, but his family was on another level. He would have easily been able to afford to take me to a place like this.

“I guess I haven’t fully gotten into what kind of pressure my dad had me under.” He smiles grimly. “I wouldn’t have been permitted to leave town lines with you, much less spend more than what it cost to go to Sal’s or go see a movie. Dad knew it would look bad on him if I never paid foranything,but he was against me dating you enough to be petty about it.”

Knowing what I do about his dad now, it really shouldn’t surprise me that the abusive asshole hadn’t been my biggest fan. Back when I first realized, it really bothered me, but good riddance. He doesn't deserve the space it takes in our minds to hate him.

“After all of that, this should have been the first place I took you, that’s all I meant.” He says, squeezing my hand before releasing it. “Anyway, enough about that asshole. You said you haven’t been here in a long time. Why? Your family used to come here for everything.”

“After the accident, Tom couldn’t bear to come here without Sarah, so we just kind of stopped.” It had been really hard, coming here for a birthday dinner for the first time after her death and seeing the raw pain in Tom’s eyes. None of us had thought of it, and we turned around and went home.

We’re interrupted by the waiter, whose eyes widen in recognition. “Can… can I take your order?” He shakes his head, “I mean, I’m sorry. Drinks. Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Williams? I mean?—”

Carter lets out an easy smile, the same one I’ve seen on the poster in Jordan’s room. “Call me Carter. What’s your name?”

The waiter, now that I’m looking properly, can’t be older than his late teens. “Joey, sir. I mean, Carter. Could you…” His cheeks flush as he rips a piece of paper from his pad, “Could you sign this for me please? I’ve been following your career since you signed with the Vultures.”

“Of course.” Carter takes his pen and signs the little sheet of paper, and the waiter looks like he might faint in excitement.

“Thank you so much,” he stammers, pushing the piece of paper into the front pocket of his shirt. After that’s out of the way, Joey seems to have an easier time around Carter, taking our drink order, and once he leaves, I chuckle, shaking my head.

“What?” Carter gives me a knowing look, surely betting I’m about to give him a hard time about our waiter's reaction to him.

“Do you ever get used to it?” I ask, gripping his hand across the table. “I know you as just… Carter. It’s so strange seeing people fawn over you like that.”

“It’s… different.” He smiles, shaking his head. “If they’re sweet like that kid, it’s nice. I can see how much they love the sport and I love that I feed into that somehow. But if they’re pushy and demanding, which is more often than not, I’m not inclined to sign a single thing they own.”

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