Page 56 of The Wedding Game

‘Is that what you had planned?’ she asks tentatively.

‘No-o-o,’ I draw out the word. ‘I did not have that planned. At all.’

‘You did, didn’t you? Have you got tickets?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘But hang on a second and I’ll tell you what we’rereallydoing. Once I check the FAQs on the website and see if I can get a refund for these tickets I absolutely did not buy.’

‘Oh, Chris! OK, forget I said it. We’re going ice-skating. Come on.’

‘Not if youhateit!’

‘I didn’t say “hate”,’ she points out quickly. ‘“Hate” is too strong a word.’

‘I should have checked with you first. I thought it would be …’

‘What?’ she queries.

‘I thought it would be nice,’ I say simply and then I shrug. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. We’re going ice-skating. Come on.’ She grabs my hand and even though I’m sure it was an innocent reflex, it does things to me that it shouldn’t. I look at our gloved hands entwined together and allow myself to be dragged in the direction of the rink entrance.

‘Why is it you don’t like ice-skating?’ I ask moments later as we’re lacing ourselves into our skating boots. It’s so cold there’s steam mingling together from our breath.

‘I’m lying. I love it,’ Lexie deadpans, giving me a wide grin.

I make a doubtful face.

‘It’s just stressful and painful, isn’t it? One of us is going to fall over. It’s cold. It looks all romantic in films, but the reality is that you could quite easily break something or losea finger if you fall over, and then someone runs over your hand with their skate andwhomp!… finger gone.’

‘Whomp?’ I query.

‘I couldn’t think of a better noise.’

I chuckle. ‘Well,’ I say as we walk on our blades towards the ice, ‘no one is falling over, because I’m pretty good at this, so I’ll hold you up or you can just … hug the edge or something.’

Lexie gives me a glacial look as we enter the arena, the ice beneath us immediately unsettling her, and she breathes quickly. I hold onto her by her elbow and watch her try to smile, while also trying not to grit her teeth in discomfort. It’s quite an art. Her white wool beanie is slipping down a bit over her eyebrows, but she’s making no move to push it back up. She’s wearing a matching white faux-fur jacket over skin-tight jeans. She looks beautiful.

Iknewthis was a bad idea. But guilt at purposefully ignoring her for the last two weeks has taken hold of me. I feel a bit shit about it, but I’ve had to do my absolutebestto stay the hell away from her. Other than a few slip-ups at the coffee machine, when I haven’t been able to help myself, walking over there and engaging her in conversation: a little hit of Lexie in addition to the caffeine. Apart from that, it’s been two weeks of making sure that whenever we’re together, we’re with other people. Which means I can’t do, or say, anything now that will get me into trouble.

She didn’t mention again my initial suggestion that I take her out most nights. Why, Chris, did you thinkthatwas agood idea? The news that she’s with Josh came as a shock. At the wedding she hooked up with Josh minutes after my taxi pulled away. I still don’t know what to do with that information.

Everything about that night we met felt so …real. And then, minutes later, she …? I can’t work it out. But I know I’m right about Lexie not liking me as much as I’d liked her. It took me longer than it should have done to realise that, but I got there in the end.

Mainly because she told me to fuck off.

OK, so she didn’t say that, but I was fobbed off in a very polite way that made me pay attention. I made her feel uncomfortable with thatI can’t stop thinking about youtext. And then Lexie used the other F-word: friend. Now I’m here, ice-skating with her and torturing myself. Thank God I started dating again and have stopped pining after this woman, who is categorically not interested in me. I don’t know what I thought spending time with her tonight was going to achieve. I felt guilty about ignoring Lexie, although she probably didn’t even notice or care. I am a level-one idiot.

She’s halfway through saying something and I’ve missed some of it. ‘I wish I wasn’t wearing really tight jeans,’ she continues. ‘Because if my legs decide to go in different directions, I’m ripping these babies in half.’

I laugh, then my eyes inappropriately drop to the area she’s talking about and I have to force myself to pull my gaze back up to her face.

‘You’re not bad at this,’ I lie. ‘For someone who hates it so much.’ I notice she’s clutching my arm tightly to try andhelp herself stay upright. Our upper halves must look like a tangle of arms.

‘I’m concentrating,’ she confesses. ‘Can you push my hat up for me? I can’t see, and I’m scared to reach up.’

‘Oh, sure,’ I say and move in front of her, fixing her beanie into place. We’re near the edge of the rink and, with the twinkling lights shining off her dark eyes, I’m having to seriously resist the urge to kiss her. Instead I ask, ‘You having fun?’

‘Yeah.Somuch fun,’ she says darkly.

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