Page 24 of Second-Rate Superstar
She wiggled her skate-clad feet before standing. “You weren’t kidding about tying them tight. I’m not going to lose circulation, am I?”
I shook my head. “Nah. If I haven’t lost a foot yet, you’ll survive the next few hours.”
“Hours?” Her eyebrows rose. “Can’t you give me a cheat sheet?”
A smirk crept onto my face. “Where would be the fun in that?”
Dakota narrowed her eyes. “Back to the games, I see.”
My next words slipped out before I could stop them. “Firefly, I get paid to play games.”
Mentally cursing myself, I braced for the backlash, but Dakota went silent, dropping her gaze.
Knowing I was playing with fire, I tipped her chin up. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
Sad eyes stared back at me. “You know Nix calls me the Ice Queen, don’t you? Well, at least to my face. When he thinks I’m out of earshot, it switches to Frigid Bitch.”
Anger surged in my veins. “Fuck him. Is he the reason you hate athletes? For what he’s doing to Bristol, what he’s said about you? Please, please, please, don’t let him be the benchmark. I can prove most of us arenothinglike him.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and I felt like the biggest asshole alive for making her cry. Why couldn’t I keep my big mouth shut?
“No,” Dakota whispered. “It’s not him.”
Cupping her face, a small thrill ran through me when she didn’t immediately pull away. “It’s not okay that he calls you names, either to your face or behind your back.”
She shrugged. “I get it. I’m not exactly his biggest fan, and I’d rather have my nose in a book than go out on dates. But that’s my choice.”
“That doesn’t make you cold. Within minutes of meeting you, I knew you had a spark. You didn’t back down. I like that about you. It’s refreshing.” Pausing, I confessed, “It’s why I couldn’t stay away.”
That admission broke the trance, and she pulled away so quickly that the back of her knees hit the bench, and she fell onto it with a thud.
“Anyway . . .” Dakota let out a nervous laugh. “Are you ready to skate, or what?”
Stepping to the side, I allowed her to stand. “Not quite.” Reaching for the pile of Comets branded apparel I had purchased at the pro shop, I held them out to her. “Figured we could reach a happy medium on appropriate clothing for the ice.”
Tentatively, she reached out, taking my offering of a hat and hoodie. Donning the hat, she fussed with it until she had it where she wanted it, her dark curls spilling out over her shoulders. Flipping the hoodie over, she caught sight of the name Slate written across the back, along with my number, eleven.
Head tilted toward the ceiling, she teased, “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
What could I say? There was something primal about seeing a girl you liked wearing your name and number. It was my subtle way of staking a claim on her.
“Would you rather freeze?” I challenged.
Eyes sparkling, she threw the oversized hoodie over her head, knocking the navy and gray winter hat slightly askew.
“Good choice.” I threw her a wink.
Skates were on my feet more often than street shoes, so walking in them was second nature. But beside me, Dakota practically stomped her feet as we worked from the lobby to the ice surface. Not gonna lie; it was kind of adorable.
Unlocking the door, I held it open for Dakota to step onto the ice. Nervously, she peeked at me before sliding her front foot onto the ice. I didn’t realize her mistake until it was too late. Putting all her weight on that skate, it kept moving forward while her back leg remained on solid ground. She dropped so fast from my field of vision it took a moment to process that she was at my feet, her body spread out in a split.
“Oh shit.” I dropped to my knees, pulling her from the uncomfortable position. “Are you okay?”
Wincing, she pushed off the ground enough to kneel opposite me. “Yeah. Guess it was a good thing I opted for leggings today. Stretchy pants saving the day from having my underwear on display.”
She was trying to deflect, so I leaned into it. “I mean, if you want to show them to me anyway . . . I won’t say no.”
Laughing, Dakota shoved against my chest. Rising to my feet, I helped her up. Learning from past mistakes, I stepped onto the ice first, holding my hands out for her to take. Fingers tightened around mine, and she wobbled as her skates slid beneath her. Pulling her into my arms, she didn’t protest. I wasn’t going to let her fall again.
