“Here we are, M’lady,” Oakley declares as we pull into the rarely empty parking lot of the Saints Arena.
“I have a quick question that I probably should have asked before we left, but what skates am I using?” I certainly didn’t bring any.
Oakley scratches the back of his neck nervously. He reaches behind him to the backseat and grabs what I’m assuming is his hockey bag.
“I may or may not have looked at your shoe size before we left my house. Coincidentally, you and my sister are the same size so I grabbed the skates she uses when they come to visit me. I hope that’s okay?”
His nervous rambling is adorable. “Yeah, of course! Thank you.”
“Stay there,” he demands and hurries out of the truck. He runs around to my side and opens my door for me. I feel flushed as he waits for me, holding his hand out for me to take.
I place my hand in his as he helps me down and shuts the door behind us. He slides his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side as we walk into the arena.
The difference a crowd of people makes in the arena is insane. It’s odd being here without shouting fans—peaceful even.
I let Oakley lead the way to the team locker room. He lets go of my side when we reach a bench sitting in front of a small row of cubbies on the far side of the room. As I sit down, I decide that since I let him think I don’t know how to skate, I might as well act like I don’t know how to lace up skates. Honestly, I just really don’t want to. It’s a serious pain in the ass.
I watch as he unzips his hockey bag and pulls out both sets of skates before turning to the cubby directly behind us and setting his bag down on the bottom shelf. The bold letters placed above the cubby make me smile.
Oakley Hutton #11
He doesn’t seem to keep a lot in his cubby. Not on a day off, I guess. The only things he has in there are a few of his jerseys and an extra pair of hockey socks.
In record time, Oakley sits down beside me, has his skates tied, and is on his knees to lace mine. When he slides off my sandals, I try not to focus on the burning trail of electricity his fingers leave behind or the shiver that runs up my spine as he flashes his pearly whites at me. Who turned up the temperature in here?
I watch as his fingers quickly and skillfully loop the laces through each hole. And in no time, he has the other skate in his hand and quickly slips it on my other foot.
“All done, princess. They feel okay?”
I snap out of my trance and realize he’s standing over me with a gentle smile.
I stand up and wiggle my toes in the skates. Grinning broadly at him, I say, “Perfect. Thank you.”
He helps me wobble to the hallway that leads out to the ice. I purposely stumble a little as we make our way. Oakley slips an arm around my waist to steady me. I have to make my lie believable, after all. Nobody can walk on skates perfectly the first time they wear them. That’s a fact.
As we reach the rink, I take a long look around. I’ve never actually seen it empty before. There are no goalie nets, only markings where they should lay. No referees are skating around blowing whistles as opposing players push and shove each other around. Gone are the groups of people sitting in the ugly blue seats that make up half the arena, filling it with ear- piercing screams.
“Peaceful, isn’t it?” He turns to face me, his voice soft. “Don’t get me wrong. I love playing hockey, but sometimes it’s nice just to skate. There’s no pressure when you’re just skating.”
I glance at him and see his mossy eyes flash with an emotion I can’t quite read.
“You ready? I promise I’m a fantastic teacher.” He steps onto the ice and holds out his hands.
Slowly, I make my way to him and grab his hands. As Oakley gently guides me step by step, I begin to wish he was teaching me how to skate for the first time.
For the next few minutes, we do slow laps around the boards. Oakley skates backward, watching me pretend to struggle on the ice.
“When were you going to tell me you already know how to skate?”
I let out an awkward giggle and reluctantly meet his gaze. He bursts out laughing and pulls me into a tight hug. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. With a grin, I pull away and skate backward.
“What gave it away?” I shout as he slides towards me with a smirk.
“Babe, I’ve taught people how to skate before. You caught on way too fast.”
too fast. You could have just told me you already knew.”
Yeah, I know, I just didn’t want to. Suddenly the small cuts on the ice seem really interesting.
“Maybe I just wanted to replace those memories with new ones?” It comes out as more of a question than an answer, but oh well. I want today to be the first thing that pops into my head when I think of skating, rather than all of the times David taught me.
I don’t realize that I’ve stopped skating until Oakley gently lifts my chin. His eyes burn into mine, and he pulls me tight against his chest.
“I think I know something that might help,” he almost whispers, leaning in so close his breath stirs my hair.
My heart pounds painfully against my chest. “What?” “This.”
Without warning, his lips are on mine. I stand there, rigid and taken aback until his grip tightens around me, ripping through my surprise. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling themselves in his hair. I try to pull him even closer as I kiss him back with every pent up emotion inside me.
Suddenly the tenderness of the kiss is replaced by hunger—a wild, seemingly insatiable hunger. Oakley nips my bottom lip as his mouth desperately meets mine once again. I trail my hands from his hair, down his back, and under his shirt. I lean into him as my fingers trace the indents covering his skin. A low moan escapes Oakley’s lips, urging me to press myself closer to him.
He presses me softly against the boards before detaching his mouth from mine to leave a trail of wet kisses along my jaw. He’s lit a fire in me. One that only he can put out.
Oakley gently presses our lips together one last time before pulling away. Stepping back, I meet his eyes and attempt to hold back a proud grin. His eyes are dark with a desire that I have no doubt matches my own.
I rest my forehead on his shoulder as we both try to regain our ability to breathe. I lift my head and look at him.
“That did help,” I giggle.
We both burst out laughing but don’t make any move to pull away from each other.
