Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
The next spin is the most intricate one. He’s forgotten the real name, calling it the angsty octopus in his head. They’re crouching and holding each other and spinning more times than he can process. While Chris Isaak sings brutal things about his breaking heart.
The lyrics to this song are really damn cynical. That must be why he likes them so much. It’s all desperation and loss, rendered into beauty. It’s more or less his own heart on a good day.
The whole thing is just perfect, and Zoe is a damn genius for creating it.
The spin finished, he fights dizziness. Zoe takes his hand, and they circle the rink, picking up speed. It’s time for the big lift, which means flying across the ice, holding Zoe by the hips in the air.
Here we go. When the proper moment arrives, he scoops her off the ice. With his legs in a powerful lunge, lifting her overhead is a simple thing. He’d never dream of dropping her.
They’re flying together now. Chris Isaak is crooning, the ethereal chords bouncing all around the arena. And Zoe is majestic above him, her lithe body stretching from one impossible pose to the next, until he sets her gently down.
She turns into his arms, and they dance and sway together until the last mournful line, when they pose together. He realizes he’s gasping for breath as Zoe makes them take a bow, just like in a real performance. And then his eyes find Martina, who’s skating slowly across the ice, a worried expression on her face.
Uh-oh. Maybe he really sucks at this, and he’s just having too much fun to notice.
“Holy shit,” Martina says when she comes to a stop in front of them. “Zoe, you are a poet.”
Zoe’s sudden smile could power the Eastern Seaboard. “Thank you. It’s moody, right?”
“It’s…” She takes a breath. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen you skate, and that’s because it comes straight from the heart. Remember this feeling, will you? Next season, when you’re straining every one of your tendons trying to land four triples in under three minutes, remember what it feels like to skate for joy, and not for technical points.”
Zoe’s eyes grow shiny, and she nods.
Martina turns to him now. “You also impress me,” she says quietly. “Not your technique.”
He laughs immediately.
“No, listen.” She puts a hand on his sweaty arm. “You could have been a great figure skater if you had studied it, and you are more competent now than seems fair. But it is hard work trying a brand-new thing and baring your soul at the same time. You don’t really know what you’re doing, and still I see you leaving it all on the ice. You sell it, Mr. Merritt. You will make Zoe look good or die trying, and I admire you.”
Chase is rarely at a loss for words, except for right now. “Uh, thank you. It’s been an adventure.”
“I see that it has. You two should call it a night now.” She looks from him to Zoe and back again. “Be careful, you two. Don’t get hurt.”
“I’m being careful,” Zoe promises. “My mother will kill me if I injure myself.”
“That is not what I meant,” Martina says softly. Then she turns and skates toward the exit.
Chapter 19
Present Day
Guess who’s suddenly popular among the players, and also really confused about it?
This girl.
It starts as soon as I arrive at LaGuardia for a flight on the team jet. The Legends are playing in Toronto tomorrow, and I’m taking my first scouting trip with two veterans of the sport.
But nobody is talking about hockey as I follow Darcy and the team into the private gate area. “Sit here, ladies,” says the young O’Connell. He points at a couple of seats, then sits across from us. “Me and the boys have some questions about that video. But first I gotta rewatch that part where Merritt does that twirly thing.”
Darcy and I exchange a look. Then I glance around the waiting area and see all the hockey players hunched in twos and threes over various phones and tablets. They’re all watching our ten-year-old “Wicked Game” video, and I hear the song in surround sound.
Thanks to a journalist who’s way too good at her job, video evidence of my teenage heartbreak is making the rounds on the internet. And every player is laughing.
Chase must be burning mad. The whole world is chuckling over a video of his nineteen-year-old self doing toe loops and camel spins to a pop song.
Well, some of them are chuckling. Rookie Lukas Weber is actually rolling on the carpet, clutching his sides.
I don’t think I really understood what viral meant until this morning. Everyone I’ve ever known from skating camp has forwarded the link to me in the last twenty-four hours. Hey Zoe! Did you know this guy became a professional hockey player? He’s still hot! And so on.