Fake Dates & Ice Skates: Chapter 26

I can’t tear my eyes away even if I wanted to. There is something so elegant and satisfying about watching her skate. I watch as she gets lost between the lyrics and the movements. I look around to see everyone else with the same expression: pure hypnosis. Even though playing hockey is similar with the adrenaline and the thrill but this feels so different. When we’re on the ice we’re fighting, roughing each other up as we try to score a goal. But  this?

This is completely magical. Utterly consuming. I could watch her like this for hours and I would never get bored. If she didn’t hate it when I watch her practice, I could spend the rest of my life just sitting in this seat while she moves around the ice.

She looks so peaceful while she dances, her body moving seamlessly with the music. I can tell there are so many intricate patterns and details that she puts into this routine. Like the way she rolls her head back slightly, the way her arms right down to her fingers flow. Even when her eyes close for a few seconds, there are no faults.

She looks up at me for a split second and I smile at her, but her smile wanders somewhere else in the crowd, and it drops. Her face turns sour as she turns back around, skating in the other direction. My heartbeat quickens and my stomach twists. I try to find who she is looking at, but I can’t see anyone else other than Kennedy and Scarlett who are watching her beside me with adoration.

Her routine comes to an end, and we stand up to clap and whoop. Wren gives a shy smile in her finishing position before skating off the ice. I walk down to her as she’s getting off the ice, not able to wait any longer. Even when I get down to her, people are still cheering.

“You did amazing. Like, so fucking good, Wren,” I say when she steps off. I slip my hand around her waist and kiss her on the cheek. She doesn’t throw me a confused look like she usually does, instead she slips out of my grasp and pushes away from me which is worse.

“Thank you,” she replies bluntly as she catches her breath. “I didn’t land my Lutz as good as I did in practice but it’s fine. I think. Did you meet my mom up there?”

Her words come out in a weird breathy clump. “What? Uh, no. I didn’t know she was here.” I look around the stands as people watch the duet on the ice.

She makes a “What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?” I ask when more silence fills the stadium. I put my hand on her back reassuringly. Her mouth opens and then she shuts it. She shakes her head as if to get rid of whatever she was about to say. Heels click behind us, and we both turn around.

“Mother,” Wren says curtly as she stands up. She turns and walks towards her mom who is rather dressed up for the occasion “Glad you could join us.”

I stand up, brushing myself off as I walk toward her, standing next to Wren. I didn’t know I would be meeting the dean as the guy who’s dating her daughter. If I did, I would have worn something that isn’t jeans and a shirt saying how much I love her daughter.

“Yes, well, I had to take a phone call,” Ms Hackerly says with a waft of her hand.

“Yeah, I noticed. It was hard to miss since it was right in the middle of my performance,” Wren mutters. It takes me a second to put the pieces together.

That’s why she’s been so distant.

Why she stopped smiling at me.

“Speak up, darling,” she drawls but Wren stays silent, practically shrinking away in her presence. I shift next to her, not knowing what to do with myself. “Is What is it and everyone asking that question like Wren nods as I swallow the distaste in Ms Hackerly’s tone. Her dad might like me but her mom doesn’t. I don’t think she likes anyone. “Hi, I’m Miles Davis. We had a meeting a few weeks ago. I play hockey here. Sort of,” I ramble as I extend my hand. She gives it a weird look before shaking it.

“Yes, I know who you are,” she says.

“Of course, you found space in your busy schedule to critique me. You’re unbelievable,” Wren scoffs. She hooks her arm into mine. “We’re going.”

She tugs at my arm, looking up at me with teary eyes before walking in the other direction. I don’t say anything because what am I supposed to say? I knew they had a shifty relationship, but I don’t think it’s my place to step in. She doesn’t need me to save her. All I can do just follow after her like the lost puppy I am.

“You said you needed to speak to me about something, Amelia,” her mom shouts after us. Wren stops walking and turns around, her cheeks red as if she’s been caught. What the hell is going on?

“It’s nothing. It’s fine. I’ll call you,” she stutters.

“Okay, fine. If you want to be like that. I was going to go away to Palm Springs after Christmas and into the new year with Mike,” her mom begins but Wren interrupts her.

“Great. Have fun.”

“

“I need to practice,” Wren says, her voice somewhere between surprise and anger. I look down at her and her face is hard. Unmovable. I put hand around her waist and pull her into me.

“I think we should go. You need to take a break,” I whisper into her ear. She tenses at the way my breath tickles her skin as she inhales a shaky breath. “You deserve it, Wren.”

“Okay. Okay, fine,” she murmurs before turning to her mom, her voice stronger. “Thank you. We’d like that.”

*

“Oh yeah? How come?”

“Since the divorce, it’s just felt kind of unnecessary. Especially after my mom remarried because her step kids are, like, ancient, so we’ve not bothered with it much.”

“Do “I kind of have to when we’re covered in snow every year,” she mutters, not fully meeting my eyes. “I guess I do like it. I like the seeing my friends and family part the most but the whole gift giving thing was always an afterthought.”

“My parents are having Christmas Eve dinner at home this year. They invited us but I wasn’t going to go because my mom and I are in a weird place. But if you want to, we can go,” I ramble, unable to stop the momentum.

I wasn’t going to mention that I was invited because as soon as I got the message from Clara, I was going to decline it but hearing this, I had to ask.

“Of course, I’ll go. How could I miss the opportunity to see baby pictures of you,” she beams.

“Are you sure? My family is a little…unhinged.” I cringe at myself.

“They can’t be anymore unhinged than mine.”

“Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

Wren gives me a wide smile before shoving more salad into her mouth. She chews thoughtfully, looking down at her food and then at me.

“You never talk about your parents. Is there anything I should know before we go?” she asks cautiously. I let my heartbeat pick up before forcing it to settle and get it out.

“My mom had an affair a few years ago and I only just found out,” I say quickly, trying to get it all out there at once. “That’s why we’re in a weird situation.”

“Oh, that sucks. I’m sorry,” Wren replies, sympathetically. “But your parents are still together, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the weird part. My dad somehow found it within himself to forgive her. When I thought they were going on date nights it turns out they were going to couples therapy,” I laugh but it sounds forced.

“And you haven’t forgiven her?” It sounds more like statement than a question, as if she can already tell. Like she’s able to see right through me.

“I’m trying to. I’m just scared that if I see her, I won’t know how to act,” I admit. “We haven’t really spoken since I found out and I don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“That’s something that will come to you when we go. I’m going to be there. If you want to leave at any time, I can pretend I have diarrhoea or something,” she suggests, laughing. I laugh with her but shake my head.

“I couldn’t let you do that. I don’t think Clara would ever let us live it down,” I say, and her eyes widen. She scrambles from her side of the table and kneels in front of me, her hands on my shoulders, shaking them slightly.

“Shit, Miles. I forgot you have a sister. She’s going to hate me,” she concedes frantically. I chuckle and put my arms on her shoulders, like she’s doing to me.

“She’s going to love you, Wren. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, but she’s a “There is nothing about you that she wouldn’t like. You’re perfect.”

It’s like time stopped when I said that. It’s like everything else around us seized to exist and we’re left floating outside of this moment. Oblivion. I knew I was cutting it close by saying ‘love’ and ‘perfect’ in one go. I watch her, almost in slow-motion as she takes in a sharp inhale.

We stare at each other for a long minute, the weight of the day crashing down on us as my words hang in the space between us. All the hurt and anger that was there when she was talking to her mom earlier has vanished. Instead, she looks at me with a smoothed out and relaxed expression. Her eyes drop to my lips, and I wet them on purpose. She hums. The noise ripples through me.

We haven’t been this close since the night after the game. I don’t move as she brings her hand from my shoulder to my cheek. Her thumb brushes just beneath my eye as her slender fingers reach the back of my ear.

‘Miles,’ she whispers my name like it’s something sacred. The word comes out of her mouth like a sigh, as if she’s tired, frustrated and fed-up all in one.

I mirror her position, my hands curling around her neck as she inhales again We look at each other, dangerously, ready to risk everything. Then, with the shreds of the self-control I have left, I drop my forehead to hers.

“I should go,” I whisper into the space between us.

She lets out a sigh before nodding. I stand up and grab my jacket and I look back at her when I almost reach the door.

‘Thank you,’ she murmurs.

‘What?’ I ask. She’s still in the position that I left her in, kneeling down, staring out of the apartment window.

‘I said, thank you. For everything.’

My chest tightens at her words. ‘Anytime.’

It takes all that I am not to grab her into my arms and kiss her deeply. To really have her. For real. For once.

Instead, I unlock the door and slip out of it.