118. Natalie

Chapter 118

Natalie

I open my mouth,but I don’t know if I want to laugh or scream. Because Luke brought me to an outdoor skating rink.

An ice-skating rink.

Like the one I fell on multiple times in the way too recent past.

Luke drives slowly through the gravel parking lot, the lot and rink brightly lit by large flood lights.

There are a handful of cars here and maybe a dozen people on the ice. A large field is situated next to the rink, with frames for soccer goals, so this must be some sort of public sports park. And between the rink and the field is a small wooden building with the words Warming House written on the side.

When Luke turns the ignition off, I finally look away from the death trap called an ice rink and make eye contact.

“Luke.”

He holds up a hand. “Trust me.”

My mouth shuts.

Trust me. Of course he’d go there.

“I do.” I glance back at the rink. “But I don’t think I can wear⁠—”

“I said trust me, Princess.” He cuts me off, then opens his car door and climbs out.

I stay in the car for an extra moment while I shove away the urge to whine.

When Luke said he had a surprise, I imagined he meant dinner out.

When Luke told me to dress comfortably and for the outdoors, I pictured some outdoor winter market that sold mulled wine and crocheted hats.

So this…

I look back at the ice.

This is not what I had in mind.

The far back door clicks open. “Come on, Natalie. We’ll have fun, I promise.”

“Promises, promises,” I grumble and unbuckle myself.

With my feet on the ground, I adjust my layers and then pull my thick gray headband on over my ears and pull my ponytail free.

When I circle around to the back of the SUV, I pause.

Then I snort. “Pardon me, Mr. Bank Robber, I’m looking for Luke.”

Luke blinks at me, his eyes the only thing visible on his face. “I don’t want to be recognized.”

I blink back. “You’re going to scare the children.”

“It’s a balaclava,” he huffs as he tugs the mask off his head. There’s a slight crackle of static as he does it, leaving some of his hair standing on end.

I bite my lip. “I know what it is, but it’s thirty degrees, not negative twenty.” I nod to the duffel bag sitting in the back of his vehicle. “You have any other tricks in there?”

“Yes.” Luke stares at my headband as he says it.

I narrow my eyes. “Why does it feel like you’re lying?”

He lets out a groan—that shouldn’t be sexy—then shoves his hand into the end pocket of the bag and pulls out two items.

The first is a black fleece neck warmer that he yanks down over his head until it’s bunched around his neck, covering him from his chin to the collar of his hoodie, blocking out his recognizable neck tattoo.

The second item is a hat.

A pale yellow knit hat with a pink, white, and yellow pom-pom on top.

I press my lips together while he pulls it onto his head, then I continue to watch as he uses his fingertips to tuck any visible strands up under the hat.

When he’s done, he drops his arms and looks at me.

“It’s very pretty,” I tell him, trying to keep a straight face.

“It’s for you.”

My brows go up, shifting my headband. “Really?”

Luke nods. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have winter gear.”

I look back up at the hat.

It really is pretty.

“Well, thank you. It’s very nice.” I reach up and run my pointer finger along the front of it. “Try not to stretch it out with your big head.”

Luke makes a rumbling sound low in his throat, and I yank my hand away with a squeak before he can grab it.

A car crunches over gravel as it drives in our direction, stopping Luke from retaliating.

“So… you want me to watch you skate around?” I ask, changing the subject and trying not to read too much into him buying me a pretty winter hat.

Instead of answering, Luke grabs the duffel bag and swings it over his shoulder.

When the back door is shut, Luke holds his hand out to me, and my stupid heart squeezes when I place my palm against his.

This is just a simple date.

He bought a hat because he’s a good person and he doesn’t want me to freeze.

I won’t lose the rest of my heart tonight.

I expect him to lead me right to the ice rink, but instead, we head toward the warming house.

Before we reach the door, it’s shoved open from the inside, and two small children come running out with skates on their feet.

Luke catches the door, holding it open, and gestures for me to go in first.

Warm is correct.

The room is maybe the size of a large bedroom. It’s simple and bare, with benches along the walls and a double row of benches down the center of the room.

People are scattered inside, in different stages of resting or changing footwear. And tennis shoes and snow boots are shoved under the benches, along with some bags similar to the one Luke is holding.

The fluorescent lights overhead have yellowed plastic covers. And that, mixed with the heater in the corner of the ceiling blowing super-heated air, gives the room a hazy effect.

A familiar hand presses into the center of my back, guiding me to an open section of bench that doesn’t have any shoes underneath it.

I sit, my back to the wall, but Luke doesn’t join me on the bench.

Instead, he crouches before me and starts digging in the duffel bag.

The action puts his pom-pom right at eye level, so I reach out and squeeze it.

The yarn is so soft I squeeze it again.

“Get all your aggression out now, Princess. I don’t need you trying to squash my other pom-poms later.”

I roll my eyes. “Not my fault you have such a nice pom-pom.” I give it another squeeze for good measure.

Luke sets a large pair of hockey skates off to the side, and then he starts to pull out the next set.

“Seriously, Luke. I don’t⁠—”

I stop talking because the next pair he pulls out is not the oversized pair I wore with the Blizz suit. They’re hockey skates, same style as his, but instead of black and white, these are cream.

Cream leather. Cream laces. Pretty, just like the hat.

“If the sizing is wrong, I can get different ones.” Luke sets them down, then begins untying the boots I’m wearing. “But I based it off the shoes you have by the front door. And I know you wear those pairs regularly, so I assume they must fit well.”

“Oh.” My voice comes out as a whisper. “That was really thoughtful of you.”

Luke lifts his gaze from my skate and grins. “I’m not just a hot body.”

I flick his pom-pom.

Luke laughs and pulls my boots off, clearly not having the same crisis of heart that I am.

He shoves my boots under the bench beneath me, then holds the first skate open.

I shove my foot in, wiggling my heel until everything feels like it’s in place.

Luke’s fingers brush the bare skin of my ankle as he rolls up the bottom hem of my jeans, and I feel the zip of his touch run all the way up my leg.

My eyes stay locked on his fingers as he laces the skate up.

It looks like a delicate task, but his large hands make quick work of it.

We repeat the process for the next foot, and when he rolls up the bottom of that pant leg, I swear his fingertips linger just a little longer, drag just a little farther around my ankle.

“I’m gonna have you stand up for me.” Luke pats the top of my foot. “If you need to, keep a hand on the wall, but move your feet around. Make sure they feel okay.”

He had me so distracted with his little touches that I totally forgot the reason he was putting ice skates on my feet.

Because we’re about to go fucking ice-skating.

Resigned, I take his offered hands and let him pull me up.

Luke grins again.

“What?” I ask, getting my balance.

“I forgot that wearing skates puts you at the perfect height.”

Heat fills my cheeks, but I still have the wherewithal to slap Luke’s hand away when he lets go of mine and reaches for my side. “Luke, there are kids.”

His grin doesn’t fade as he moves to sit on the bench to put his own skates on.

Doing as he said, I walk in place, shifting my weight around to test the fit.

The skates are shockingly comfortable. They don’t pinch anywhere, and the padding inside feels like it was made just for me.

I’m not saying I’ll skate any better than I did before, but if I’d had these on during that stupid game, I bet my feet wouldn’t have been killing me at the end of the night.

Finished with his laces, Luke stands, putting our height difference back to normal. “How do they feel?”

I take a few more steps in place. “They’re really comfy.”

“Too tight? Too loose?” He’s asking me seriously, but his lemon-meringue hat ruins the effect.

So, even though I don’t really want to skate, I can’t stop my smile. “They’re Goldilocks. Just right.”

“Just right indeed.” He trails his eyes down my body, then sighs and kicks his duffel under the bench. “Shall we?”

After I pull my mittens onto my hands, I take his offered one. “If we must.”

My steps are still a little wobbly, but Luke’s hold is steady, and we make it out of the warming house with ease.

The snowflakes have gotten even bigger, and I can hear the difference. That quiet of a heavy snow. And it helps calm my nerves.

The little path between the house and the rink is made of long rubber mats, and when a kid darts around us, making me sway, I suddenly feel like a crotchety old lady who wants to shout at all the neighborhood children to keep it down.

Then I see the kid trip and face-plant into the rubber mat.

He doesn’t cry. Just gets back up and starts running again. But I still feel like a tiny bit of cosmic justice was doled out.

Except then I’m reminded of all the times I fell last time I was on the ice.

I tug on Luke’s hand. “Did you bring any kneepads? Or wrist guards? Or… something?”

Luke shakes his head with a smirk. “Nah, Princess.”

Then we’re at the opening in the half wall that encircles the rink.

“Hope you have more of that stupid salve,” I mutter as I try to push the aches and pains from last time out of my mind.

Luke steps onto the ice, turning to face me and offering me his second hand. “You’re not gonna need it.”

I grip his hand tightly so both my hands are palm to palm with his, and put my first skate onto the ice. “Why’s that?”

Holding my breath, I put my second skate onto the ice.

“Because I won’t let you fall.”

His words are so simple.

So matter of fact.

So… everything I want.

I inhale, the ache in my heart intensifying with each second that passes, but I force it away. Force it down. Because I won’t let my affection for this man be filled with dread.

Even my hummingbird is stepping in, jumping up and down, using her wings to add weight as she tramples on the bad feelings building in my chest, trying to make them disappear.

“Relax, Green Eyes. We’ll start easy.”

I lift my gaze from Luke’s chest to meet his. “Okay.”

He dips his chin. “Just hang on, alright?”

I nod.

Luke keeps his arms bent, his elbows tucked against his sides, so I do the same, leaving our hands clutched between us.

Then his feet start to move.

The ice is smooth under our skates, and the people skating around us fade from my awareness as I let him pull me across the rink.

We move faster.

“You okay?” Luke asks.

“I’m okay,” I answer.

“Good. Now start skating.”

His hands drop away from mine, and my arms automatically shoot out to catch my balance, but I’m moving fast enough that I’m already steady.

Luke is still moving backward, somehow aware of the people behind him, but he doesn’t move away from me. He keeps pace, still within reach.

So I skate.

I know how. I’ve proven I can. But I’ve also proven I’m not good.

My first movement is jerky.

The second is smoother.

By the fourth, my arms are moving with my body, and I’m skating at the same speed we started at.

“There you go.” Luke beams at me.

Then he does something with his feet because he’s suddenly at my side, facing the same way I am.

“Ready to go faster?”

I start to shake my head, but Luke’s hand is already pressing into my back.

He applies pressure, bringing me with him as he speeds up.

“One more time,” Luke says. “Then we can have the hot chocolate I brought.”

I put my fists on my hips. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve had hot chocolate this whole time?”

He nods. “And if you can spray me, you can have it.”

I purse my lips, then shrug.

Either I accomplish it, or I crash into him, and he cushions my fall. Basically a win-win.

“Alright.” I drop my fists.

We’re about fifteen feet away from each other.

Luke is standing still, his pretty yellow hat covered in a layer of snow.

I start to skate.

It’s just enough distance for me to get a bit of speed. And then, when he’s only a couple feet in front of me, I do the maneuver he’s been teaching me for the past half hour and skid to a stop, my blades perpendicular to his, sending a spray of shaven ice across his legs.

Luke lets out a whoop as I turn toward him.

“I did it!” Without thinking, I throw myself against him, wrapping my arms around his neck in a hug.

Luke doesn’t fall. Of course he doesn’t. He just wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me as he hugs me to his body.

My skates dangle above the ice as I bury my face against his fleece-covered neck.

“I’m proud of you, Little Royal,” he murmurs as he holds me a little tighter.

And I squeeze my eyes shut a little harder.

Luke starts to skate with me still in his arms.

I cross my ankles and bend my knees, keeping my feet out of the way as we glide over the ice. And it feels like flying.

“Thank you, Player.” My words are quiet, but I know he hears them.

Luke rubs his cheek against the top of my head. “You did so good.”

Maybe this feeling inside me isn’t doomed to loneliness.

I hold him tighter.

Maybe Luke is falling in love with me too.