Page 81 of My Last Dance

Blowing out a sigh, I skate-ran onto the ice, grateful for an empty rink. I needed to stretch out my limbs and breathe in the cold air to clear my head.

I entered the music box, then watched Kappy.

He stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he carefully stepped onto the ice.

After bending into some edges, he shook out both legs, then mumbled some words to himself. He looked up at me and grinned. “Easy, just like I thought. I got this,” he yelled out, rubbing his hands together. Clearly feeling more comfortable, he skate-ran into a lap around the rink, acting like there was zero difference between figure skates and hockey skates.

My eyebrows raised in surprise. Wedging myself in the music box entrance, I yelled out, “Just be careful of the—”

He pitched a little too far forward and hit the toepick, making his body hurl straight into the boards with a loud crash.

“Oh shit,” I murmured. Jumping out of the box, I quickly skated over to him.

He groaned and flopped onto his back. “I think I just checked myself,” he said with his eyes still closed.

Seeing that he was okay, a laugh erupted out of me. “That was great, really great work.” I clapped for him. “I need to ask Hans for the security footage.”

His face scrunched in pain as he rubbed his shoulder.

“Miss your hockey pads yet?” I snickered.

“It’s not funny. I could be hurt, Viper,” he pouted.

“Nah, you’re an athlete,” I teased, using the same words he said to me when I fell in his mother’s front yard. I pushed into a little spread eagle around him and motioned to my ear. “Wait, what did you say about this being easy?”

“Piper!” Patrick’s voice boomed, making me jump. “Stop tormenting him and get to work.”

“Yeah, stop tormenting me,” Kappy said with an amused little smirk on his face.

Rolling my eyes, I left Kappy where he was on the ice and pushed into my warm-up exercises.

I tried my best to ignore the two guys at the north end of the ice, but every once in a while, I’d watch their progress, and it gave me deja vu back to our college days.

Unfortunately, as much as Kappy tried to extend his limbs in a graceful manner, he still looked like a hockey player.

After about fifteen minutes of watching them struggle, I came to a stop in front of them and crossed my arms over my chest. “Kappy isnotan auditory learner. You need to record him and show him.”

Patrick whipped his neck to mine. “You think?”

Rolling my lips together, I nodded. “You’re used to watching replays for hockey, right?” I asked Kappy.

He nodded.

“This is the same thing. We’ll record Patrick skating, and then we’ll record Kappy. He needs to see what he’s doing wrong to fix it,” I told Patrick. The music box housed a TV screen we used to project video from our phones so we could replay programs.

Patrick hesitated.

“She’s not wrong,” Kappy whispered out the side of his mouth. “I’m very confused at what you’re saying.”

Patrick relented with a sigh before skating off to the music box.

After recording, Kappy carefully watched the replay of him skating.

“See, right there, you’re sitting too low.” I moved my hand to his thigh to show him, but he jumped away.

“A little handsy there, Viper.”

I arched a skeptical eyebrow. “We’re about to be a lot more touchy if we’re actually partners.”

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