Page 67 of Alive and Kicking
It’s empty and the ice looks pristine. When I glance over at Sloane, I see him rummaging in his backpack. After a secondof struggling to get something bulky out, he holds up a pair of skates triumphantly grinning at me. “I wanted to take you skating since there’s no one on the ice for a few days this week.”
He holds out a pair of figure skates that are obviously brand new. “Where did you get these?” I ask him.
His grin is infectious. “I talked to Sandy, and she said these were pretty good for someone just learning.” He shrugs like that explains everything and I guess it does.
My brows furrow. “Why ice skating?”
Sloane looks out over the ice with this captivated expression. “I just wanted to show you what I love about the ice.” He shrugs. “It’s stupid really,” he mutters, looking down at his feet.
Reaching out, I place my hand on his arm. “No. It’s not stupid. I’m glad that you want to share something you love so much with me.”
The smile he turns my way is breathtaking in the best way, and as long as I have the ability to make him smile like this I don’t need to breathe. He holds the skates out to me and I take them gratefully. He bought me skates just so he could introduce me to something he loves and it was such a sweet thing for him to do. There’s an intimacy in him wanting to share the things he loves with me that makes my chest ache.
He gently grips my elbow and leads me to the bench his bag is sitting on. I sit down and untie one of my boots, but I’m stopped when Sloane crouches down in front of me and starts pulling them off my feet. Then he takes one of the skates and unlaces it almost all the way before helping me slip my foot into it. I’ve never had a man put my shoes on for me and it’s one of the most unexpectedly romantic things I’ve ever experienced. It’s right at the top of my list along with making my college to-do list with Zane and breaking into Psycho’s ex-owner’s place with Nox. How the hell have I gotten so lucky to be surrounded by so many great men?
When he’s got the skates tied and snug on my feet he goes through the process of putting his own on, though his are different. Where the ones I have on are white and dainty, his are black and bulky. They’re his normal hockey skates and it makes sense that those are what he would wear whenever he goes skating.
Once Sloane is standing he holds out his hands to help me to my feet. Wobbling a bit, I work on finding my balance before smiling up at Sloane. With a little prodding from him, I take a few waddling steps toward the gate that lets out onto the ice. He steps out onto the ice backwards, still holding my hands, and I slowly step out onto the ice with one foot before pausing. “You’re going to do just fine,” Sloane encourages.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly put my other foot on the ice. It slides forward a bit but I manage to pull it back under me without slipping. Once I get confident in my stance he decides that means I’m ready, even though I’m still undecided.
Sloane skates backward slowly, pulling me along with him and causing me to do some strange thing where I bend over with my butt sticking in the air and my arms fully extended in front of me while Sloane pulls me after him. His laughter makes me realize how ridiculous I must look right now and I try harder. It takes me awhile, but I finally start to find my center of gravity and stand straighter, though my knees stay bent. “Good, you’ve got your balance.” He does something that stops his momentum and I bump into his chest, not knowing how to stop. He looks down at me, then looks at the ice all around us. “I’m going to be honest. I’ve never taught anyone how to skate and I didn’t really think ahead.”
His cheeks pinken and I can’t help but laugh at that. He brought me all the way to the middle of the ice to teach me how to skate, only to realize he has no idea how to teach someone else to do it. One moment I’m laughing while Sloane smiles downat me, and the next my feet slide out from under me and I fall on my ass. It stings, but after a surprised pause I start to laugh again.
“Shit, Viv, are you okay?” He crouches down to check me over.
My laughter trails off and I smile at him. “I’m fine.” I lay out on my back and look up to the ceiling way above our heads. The track follows the outline of the rink all the way up to the third floor, leaving a large oval to show the ceiling and the intermittent skylights.
“Aren’t you cold?” Sloane asks.
Shaking my head, my eyes trail over to him. “Nah. It’s not so bad.”
He reaches his hands out and I take them. “Come on, let’s get you up. You shouldn’t lay there too long or your body heat will melt the ice.”
After a few careful moments and more than a little wobbling on both our parts, Sloane manages to get me back onto my feet. “Let’s just work on getting you moving on your own. Try pushing forward gently with one foot.”
I’m careful as I push off with one foot, and surprise myself when I glide forward without immediately falling back on my butt. “Good. Keep doing that.”
After a while of me gliding slowly across the ice with Sloane directing me into turns, he lets go of my hands. For a while I keep myself up, until I realize I have no idea how to turn, and when I keep going straight I panic and try to stop… only to realize I have no idea how to stop.
Sloane is there immediately to help me. He shows me how to lean into the turns, then teaches me how to turn my foot to stop. I get more confident on my third circle around the rink without any help, and I grin wide. I move a little faster and finally realize how freeing it feels to glide across the ice. Closing my eyes, Ifeel like I’m flying. I can understand why Sloane would be so attached to this feeling. I bump into a warm chest and open my eyes to look up into Sloane’s eyes.
His arms wrap around my waist. “Are you enjoying it?”
I nod, my throat feeling a little dry at the expression on his face. “Yeah. It feels kind of liberating.”
His smile is genuine but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It does. Back in the group home the guys and I met in there was no freedom. When I got the opportunity to join the hockey team in school, I fell in love with the feeling of the ice beneath my skates.”
My chest aches as I try to think about a younger Sloane, a boy whose only escape in life was hockey. My brows furrow. “You guys don’t talk about it that often.” When his head tilts to the side, I clarify, "The group home.”
His head tilts back before his chin dips back down. “It wasn’t a happy time. We all ended up there for some pretty bad reasons. We found each other there but none of us really like to think about that time or anything before that.”
I nod. “That makes sense. I don’t like to think about some things very often either.”
Sloane shakes his head. “This wasn’t supposed to be so serious. I just wanted to have some fun. You haven’t been able to have much fun lately.”
“I always have fun when we’re together,” I counter.
