Page 100 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

“Knees bent.Bent,” I said, reaching out to hold Mason’s legs, putting him into position.

“We aren’t even on the ice yet,” he protested, but he followed suit, bending his legs.

“There you go,” I said. “You ready for the ice?”

“No, but I’ll do it anyway,” he said, looking out over the rink.

It was free skate time, and I’d brought Mason in early before the rink would be packed full of kids and teenagers on summer vacation. Right now, the only people out there were a couple of grey-haired women, gossiping while they skated, and an ambitious figure skater girl who showed up to every free skate I’d ever been to.

In other words, it was the perfect condition to teach Mason the basics.

I turned back to him, and he was still practically crab-walking in his skates on the rubber just outside the rink.

“You look adorable in skates,” I told him.

“When you said you’d teach me, I didn’t think it would be this hard. You make it look easy.”

“Wait ‘til you’re on the ice. It’ll all click in a couple of minutes. Let’s go.”

“Oh, fuck,” he said, trepidatious as I hopped out onto the ice, reaching out my hand to grab his.

“You’re the one who has been skydiving and you’re afraid to ice skate?” I teased him.

“Skydiving doesn’t involve strapping knives to your feet.”

I snickered. “Knives. Perfect for cutting up a chocolate cupcake puck, huh?”

He smiled, pulling in a breath.

I leaned over, kissing him, then moved out a couple inches more onto the ice.

“You’re pulling me,” he protested.

“That’s the idea.”

Finally he stepped out, his skates awkwardly sliding a little as he made it onto the rink. I went as slowly as possible, positioning us away from the other skaters, showing Mason that nothing bad was going to happen.

“Whoa,” he said.

“Knees. Bend ‘em.”

“Jesse, if you want me to bend over, at least take me to the supply closet—oh God—”

He wavered a little as I pulled him forward, but as he bent his knees a little lower, he found stability. A smile played at his lips again as we finally made it to a steady forward skate.

“You are my favorite,” I told him.

He groaned quietly, smacking one of my hands. “Don’t say things like that out here. I’ll get lost in your eyes and fall on my ass.”

“Youshouldfall on your ass,” I said. “Learning to fall is one of the most important things to do. Don’t fear it.”

Slowly, over the next few minutes, I led him around a couple of laps of the rink. Finally, after he’d gotten the hangof it, I brought my hands away from his and let him skate independently for the first time. He was a little nervous in his movements at first, but I stayed right by his side, ready to spot him. I taught him to avoid stepping with his heels, then guided him around the corners, helping him bank and turn without running straight into the walls.

“That’smy fuckin’ cowboy, right there,” I said, watching him lean into a turn for the first time, clearing the wall easily.

“I’ll be good enough for the Talons anytime now,” he said.

I snorted. “There you go, Mason. I’m sure you can replace me as center within just a couple days, right?”

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