Page 30 of Fresh Ice
“This is different. I’ve grown since then. I’m a responsible adult now.” Levy sniffed self-importantly.
Alonso snorted. “We spent yesterday afternoon watching cartoons, Levy.”
Levy stared at him right in the eyes as he slowly put the meat in the cart, making Alonso laugh and roll his eyes.
They went down the aisles slowly, chirping at each other about everything, from the order in which to get things to the actual items they were buying.
Alonso wrinkled his nose. “I cannot believe you’re buying that.”
“Instant mashed potatoes is the shit, so you can keep your opinions to yourself,” Levy retorted.
“That stuff isn’t even food.”
“Oh, Mr Pop-Tarts over here has an opinion on what real food is.”
“Don’t you dare bring Pop-Tarts into this,” Alonso mock-admonished.
“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it?” They had stopped in the middle of an aisle—empty, luckily—both of them trying to appear serious even as smiles tilted the corners of their mouths up.
“If you keep dissing my Pop-Tarts, I’m not gonna share them with you the next time you come home drunk,” Alonso threatened.
Levy gasped, putting a hand on his chest. “You would never.”
“Try me.”
“Oh, yeah? Then I’m gonna tell my mom you aren’t eating well, and you’ll have to sit through a thirty-minute lecture about taking care of yourself. What about that?”
Alonso laughed, but it was almost dizzying that he knew Levy’s parents well enough for that to be a real danger.
Alonso had been in the NHL for a few months, and already his life had changed so much more than he could have ever expected. Levy’s gravitational pull had dragged Alonso into his orbit, spinning him around Levy’s vast, exhilarating presence.
And wasn’t that a strange thought? That Alonso, who had always believed he had to do everything alone, would so readily accept being caught in the tide of another person.
That feeling carried him through the shopping trip and the ride home.
He was at the precipice of something, standing at the edge and knowing he wasn’t going to fall but being taken over by the wind and vertigo anyway.
Levy insisted they take all the bags in one trip, straining under the weight of all the junk they’d ended up buying. Alonso tripped him right at the doorway, Levy catching himself at the last moment.
“You fucking jerk,” Levy swore as he put everything down in the kitchen, grabbing a roll of paper towels and lobbing it towards Alonso’s head.
Alonso dodged easily, a loud cackle bursting out of him.
“Oh my God, what was that noise? You’re an actual witch. You’re like Madam Mim,” Levy said.
“Madam Mim?” Alonso asked.
“Holy fuck, have you not seenThe Sword in the Stone? Like, the animated Disney movie.”
“Never even heard of it. I didn’t watch a lot of cartoon movies when I was a kid.” Alonso shrugged.
Levy paused momentarily before raising his hands in a placating gesture. “No offence, but everything I learn about your childhood is so depressing. Please tell me you’ve watchedThe Lion King.”
Alonso frowned, not sure if he should be offended. “What does seeingThe Lion Kinghave to do with me having a good childhood?”
“Oh my God, you haven’t. We have to watch it tonight,” Levy said.
“That’s really not necessary.”
