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)
“Just one,” I say, because I don’t want to make any new enemies.
She claps her hands. “All right, team. Good work today, and thank you for your time. You’ll soon be receiving a slew of email reminders from me about your commitments. The Legends’ owner is going to be thrilled with the effort you’re making this year. We’re going to raise a lot of money for those children!”
We’d better, damn it. Because this is going to be so hard.
The meeting ends, and I head down to the staff lockers to get my skates when a new message pops up on my phone.
Chase: You free at 1p? After practice? We could skate some and discuss the program.
I’m not ready for this.
Zoe: Do you even have figure skates?
Chase: Bess just bought them. She’ll drop them off.
Zoe: I’ll have to see if the rink is available.
Chase: It is. I just checked. And we’re on a road trip after this so it’s now or never.
Now I’m really out of excuses.
Zoe: Okay. See you at 1p.
Chapter 27
After my coaching sessions, I have barely enough time to run home to my apartment for my figure skates and apply more deodorant. But maybe it’s better this way—just getting the first rehearsal over with. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, if Band-Aids were the same as holding Chase’s hand for the first time in a decade and staring into his eyes as we spin together.
I’m probably the only person alive whose favorite foreplay was practicing camel spins, but I’ve always been a little weird.
Back at the Legends’ headquarters, I carry my skates into the equipment room.
Bernie, the equipment guy, looks up from the sharpener. “Afternoon, Coach Carson. You need something?” He’s a white guy, late twenties if I had to guess, with an unfortunate mustache. But he’s got one of the coolest jobs in sports—taking care of all the players’ skates and equipment. He spends each game behind the bench, with extra sticks, repair tools, and duct tape at the ready. Like hockey’s answer to Tony Stark, but without the metal suit.
“I was hoping to sneak in there and touch up my skates.”
“Don’t trust me to do it?” he says with a teasing smile.
“I, um…” It’s egotistical of me to say this to a guy who takes care of some of the best skaters in hockey. “I didn’t know if you ever worked with figure skates.”
He chuckles. “I don’t blame you, but I grew up sharpening all kinds of skates. And I was just finishing up with Chase’s. Here—take a look.” He passes me a brand-new pair of Risport Elites, right out of the box.
I let out a low whistle. “These are sweet.” And when I run my thumb over the blade, the edge is perfect. “Nice job. I apologize.”
He just grins and takes my skates from me, giving them a quick once-over. “I got you covered, Coach. Nice and sharp, right?”
“Please.”
The hum of the sharpener fills the room, and his face creases with concentration. I use the time to check my texts. There’s a new one from my mother, so I brace myself.
Zoe, how about this weekend for a visit? I want to see your new apartment.
Now there’s a terrible idea. But I have the perfect excuse—another junior tournament, this time on Long Island.
There’s also a message from Darcy.
OMG, you’re having a rehearsal today? Guess I’m taking a lunch break at 1!
Oh lord. The gossip in this place.
Bernie hands my skates back a few minutes later. “Good luck out there.”
“In figure skating we say ‘break a leg’ instead.”
He gives me an incredulous look. “Seriously?”
“It’s a weird sport. Thanks for your help!” I take my skates and march out to the rink to face the music. I plunk down on the bench and loosen the laces.
A moment later, Chase joins me on the bench. He sets his new skates down and kicks off his shoes.
I give him my bravest smile. “Brand-new boots, huh?” I ask. “Blister city.”
“Maybe,” he agrees. “But at least there’s no duct tape on them this time.”
My heart softens at the memory of his old taped skates. “You were such a badass, skating in those things when everyone else in the building had custom-fit Riedells. I don’t think I really appreciated that.”
He looks up, surprise on his handsome face. “Don’t sweat it, Ice Princess. Having to work for everything was highly motivating.”
Still. It makes me wonder what else I missed back then. “Do those fit you okay?”
“Guess we’ll find out.” He gives the laces a tug.
With my skates tied, I prop my phone up on the edge of the boards and set it to video. We’ll probably need to see the replay to know how we’re doing. Then I kick a leg up into the air and stretch out my hamstrings.
I catch Chase watching me. “What?”
He frowns. “Gotta warn you, I’ll be rusty.”