Page 114 of The Risk Taker

Nathan’s eyes linger on the ice, then slide to me, his brows slightly furrowed. “Are you taking me on a date?”

“No,” I lie easily, letting out a scoff as I shut off the engine and grab the duffel bags from the backseat. “It’s just two hockey players going for a skate.”

He doesn’t say anything, but still gives me that flat Nathan look that says he’s not buying it.

“You brought me on a date,” he repeats, quieter this time. I don’t know what to make of it. Does he like the idea? Hate it?

“I brought you to skate,” I tell him, bumping my shoulder into his. “Somewhere you don’t have to think about anyone watching and just have fun.” That earns me a small blink. “Also, maybe I did bring a thermos, marshmallows, and some good hot chocolate in case you wanted to sit after and talk. Sue me.”

I roll my eyes which makes his lips twitch, but he still doesn’t move, doesn’t even glance away from me.

“Come on, Hayes. I even packed your skates. You can’t reject me and leave me with the mental image of your size thirteens in my Bauer boots.”

He lets out a snort and shakes his head, opening the car door.

I do the same, the cold biting as I walk around the car, seeing his cheeks and the tip of his nose getting pinker by the second. I want to kiss it. Kiss him everywhere.

“This seems like the perfect murder spot,” he mutters, arching a brow.

I huff out a laugh. “Would I really go through all this trouble just to off you?”

He gives me a deadpan look. “Honestly? Probably.”

I bump his arm and toss him his bag.

We sit on the bench, lacing up. The air’s so cold, I feel the burn in my fingers, but it feels good. Feels good being here with him, because even though I lied my ass off and told him this wasn’t a date, this sure as shit is a date to me.

When I glance over, Nathan’s just staring at the lake, his fingers still on his laces.

“You okay?” I ask.

He nods, then exhales, his breath visible in the air. “Yeah. It’s just been a while.”

“What, like a week?” I laugh, shaking my head. “I visibly remember being woken up at the buttcrack of dawn for us to skate with your dad.”

“Since skating just for myself,” he corrects.

I pause, my brows shooting up.

“I love hockey. But for the longest time…” He pauses, pressing his lips together. “I don’t know. Every time I’m on the ice, it’s about what comes next. What I can do to be the best, how to impress scouts, what happens if I get injured or don’t make it.”

My jaw tightens as I remember how stubborn he was about his injury a few months back, and now it makes sense.

He blows out a breath. “It feels like there’s never a version of it that’s just for fun anymore.”

“There are no scoreboards out here,” I tell him. “No pressure, either. Just us and the ice.”

He looks at me for a few seconds, and then he nods, his lips lifting into a smile.

We finish tying up and step out onto the ice. It groans faintly under our weight, but it holds. I grin as I start skating because I love the first marks the blades leave on fresh ice. It’s like drawing on glass.

I glance up at him, smiling a little, and it hits me how fucking much I like looking at him. Broad shoulders, deep brown eyes, the line between his brows that’s practically permanent from him focusing so much.

Fuck, Hayes. What the hell have you done to me?

I vividly remember telling him there wasn’t a chance in hell I would catch feelings for him—or anyone for that matter—and now, here I am, with my heart banging against my chest anytime I look at him.

“Alright,” I say, clearing my throat as I push off and glance at him over my shoulder. “Let’s see if you still got it.”