Page 60 of Revolve
“How noble of you.”
He snorts. “Get out, Donovan.”
On my way back to the rink, I see there’s still time before practice, so I grab a spare stick, do a couple drills, and dangle a puck, moving it smoothly back and forth. My stick scrapes the ice, and I flip the puck onto the flat edge, balancing it there when I hear the familiar scratch of skates.
“You’re late,” I say, eyes still on the puck.
“And you’re playing … hockey.” Sierra glides next to me, wearing a lavender skating dress.
Usually, she’s in a Dalton half-zip and leggings, the one she wears when she sleeps in after obsessing over our training videos. Sometimes, it’s that all-pink outfit she wears to convince Lidia she’s in a good mood. Then it’s the all-black dress, worn when she’s faster, more determined, and angrier than ever. It’s like she wears them to melt into whoever she wants to be for the day.
“Is skating getting too hard for you?” Sierra asks.
“You think hockey’s easy?”
“It’s just chasing after a puck. Doesn’t take a genius.”
“Oh yeah? Then show me.” I toss her my stick, and just as I expect, she startles but catches it easily.
The stick’s meant for my height, but her grip is all wrong. Sierra inches forward, draws back, and almost misses the puck, moving it just two feet. “There. Easy,” she still says.
“You’re not even holding the stick right.”
“Yes, I am.”
I shake my head. “So damn stubborn.”
When she’s focused on her hands, I slide behind her. Her back presses against me, surrounding me in cherry. She stiffens as my arms encircle her, closing the space between us.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she says.
“I’m giving it to you anyway.” I move closer, until I’m nearly breathing the same air and my nose almost brushes her cheek. Myhands come over both of hers, sliding them lower and adjusting her elbows. I let her get comfortable with it.
“Like this?” she asks, voice tight.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Like that.” My voice comes out rougher than I intend, and I don’t pull away. Not yet. The warmth of her skin against mine is almost too much, but I keep my hands steady, guiding her through a slap shot. “Now try hitting the puck.”
She hits it hard, sending it flying to the boards. She gasps. “Told you it was easy. My childhood Sidney Crosby obsession is probably paying off. Though, I am good at everything,” she says to me, her smile inches away from mine. Yeah, I bet she’d be great at anything. And now all I can think about is how I know what she tastes like, and if all of her tastes the same way. Sweet. Soft.Maddening.
Two claps sound, and Sierra jolts away from me. “Davai!You should be warming up before I get here,” Lidia shouts.
And just like that we fall into a long practice.
It’s hours later when I come off an intense bout of spins and jumps. “That’s nowhere near a quad Lutz, Dylan,” Lidia chides.
“It was a triple. Close enough.”
Sierra’s doing a terrible job of suppressing her amusement as she sits on the edge of the boards, swinging her feet. “Close enough doesn’t win competitions, Donovan.”
“Not having a partner doesn’t either, Romanova.”
That shuts her up.
“All right, get a drink of water, and when you’re back, we’re running through the whole program. Your first competition is next weekend. We need to be the best we can be.”
We glide to the bench, and Sierra’s in her thoughts, probably thinking about the competition. I hold out the energy bar for her. She takes it slowly, almost like she’s unsure, and the crinkle of the wrapper sounds too loud in the quiet between us.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asks.
