Page 22 of Boots & Scars

He handed me a pair of skates without another word, his expression unreadable. I took them carefully, trying not to let my nerves show. The skates felt heavy in my hands, a tangible weight that mirrored the anticipation building inside me.

"Thanks," I managed to say.

"You know," he drawled, his voice cutting through the air like a cold wind, "your boyfriend isn't here."

I frowned as I sat down to lace up my skates. "Boyfriend?"

"The skate frat boy," he clarified, his tone dripping with disdain. "He only comes in once a week. So, if you're here for him, you might as well just go."

I ignored the twinge of disappointment that gnawed at me. "As I said," I replied evenly, focusing on threading the laces through the eyelets, "I'm practicing."

Cooper scoffed. "I'm not going to go easy on you," he warned, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're not going to like me by the time we're done next quarter, but you'll be able to skate."

I looked up at him, meeting his steely gaze with a defiance of my own. "Well, it's not like you've given me a reason to like you now," I shot back.

His lips twitched with amusement. "Is that right?"

"You've been incredibly rude and antagonistic," I said, tugging the laces tighter with more force than necessary. "You can't even call me by my name but by some condescending moniker."

"Huh," he grunted in response.

With my skates finally laced up, I stood and immediately felt myself wobble precariously. My arms flailed for balance as I nearly pitched forward.

Cooper smirked, watching my struggle with evident satisfaction. "You trying to snap an ankle?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because the way you tie skates is pretty pathetic."

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I steadied myself, gripping the edge of the bench for support. His smug expression made me grit my teeth.

"Here," he said begrudgingly, stepping forward and kneeling to adjust my laces. His hands worked with a practiced efficiency,tightening and securing them in a way that felt both firm and reassuring.

"There," he said after a moment, standing back up and giving me a critical once-over. "Now try not to fall on your face."

I took a tentative step forward, testing the stability of my newly tightened skates. They felt snug and secure—much better than before.

"Thanks," I muttered reluctantly.

"Don't thank me yet," Cooper replied, his tone hardening again. "You've got a long way to go."

With my skates laced up properly, I gingerly made my way to the ice. Each step felt like a test of balance, and I could feel Cooper's eyes on me, measuring every wobble and misstep.

"Let's see what you can do," he said as we stepped onto the ice.

The cold air bit at my cheeks as I pushed off, gliding awkwardly. Cooper skated ahead effortlessly, turning back to watch me struggle. He was a hawk, circling its prey, waiting for any sign of weakness.

"Start with basic forward strides," he ordered, his voice cutting through the chill.

I nodded, focusing on keeping my movements smooth. The ice felt both foreign and familiar beneath my blades. I was still new to this, after all.

"Faster," Cooper barked after a few laps. "You're not here for a leisurely glide."

I pushed harder, my legs burning with each stride. The rhythm of my breathing grew ragged as I tried to keep up with his pace.

"Crossovers," he commanded next. "Left over right."

I stumbled through the first few attempts, my feet tangling awkwardly. Cooper skated alongside me, his presence an unspoken challenge.

"Again," he demanded. "Do it until you get it right."

My legs screamed in protest, but I kept going, forcing myself to focus on each movement. I could feel sweat trickling down my back despite the cold.

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