Nate, p.10
Nate, page 10
part #10 of Las Vegas Sidewinders Series
“Hi,” he said, leaning down for a kiss.
“Hi.” She let her lips linger on his, and their eyes met meaningfully.
“Let’s go,” he said at last.
“Where are we going? You said to dress casual.”
“Yup. This is our big fourth date.”
“We’re going skating?”
He shut the door after her and got in on the driver’s side. “It’s a surprise, so don’t ask any more questions.”
“Okay.” She slid her hand across the seat and he took it in his. “You guys had a good trip, won all three games.”
“Yeah, it felt good, like we’ve found our groove.”
“You had a goal and a few assists, so you’re killin’ it too.”
“I don’t know about killin’ it, but I’m starting to figure it out.”
“I won’t pretend to know a lot about hockey since I just started learning about it, but compared to the other guys, you look good. Strong, fast, always in the middle of the plays…is that what you’re supposed to do?”
He smiled. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”
“Not at all. There’s no shame in admitting you don’t know something and that you’re learning, studying. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a journalist, the ins and outs of how you go about setting up interviews, coming up with what questions to ask, how you do your research. So I wouldn’t expect you to know the details of what I do.”
“I’m trying to learn. We never had much in the way of professional sports here in Vegas, so while my dad watched football and baseball when I was growing up, it didn’t mean much to me since we didn’t have a local team. Now that I’m around hockey, I’m starting to get into it. I yelled at the TV the other night, and my parents burst out laughing.”
Nate chuckled. “I bet it was cute.”
“It definitely wasn’t very ladylike when the other team scored.”
“I’m familiar with that emotion.” He laughed.
They chatted all the way to the arena. Nate hid a grin as he watched her pretty face morph from relaxed conversation to confusion.
“Why are we at the arena?” she asked. “Isn’t it closed?”
“It is.”
“Please tell me you’re not giving me skating lessons on the Sidewinders’ ice.” She looked so horrified, he chuckled.
“I am. But there’s no one there but security and the cleaning crew. I figured somewhere private would be easier instead of a public rink with four hundred five-year-olds and their skate trainers—”
“Those things that look like walkers?” she interrupted, laughing.
He nodded. “Here, we have privacy and the ice won’t be all torn up, so you’ll have an easier time acclimating.”
“They just let you use the ice?”
“Well, no, they don’t just let me. I have to pay for the Zamboni guy to come clean it up when we’re done, but it’s not a big deal.”
“Oh. I don’t want you to pay for anything. I just thought—”
“It’s not a big deal, honey.” He squeezed her hand. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”
He tugged her out of the car, along with his bag containing a pair of his own skates as well as the pair he’d bought for her after surreptitiously checking her shoe size when she’d been in the bathroom at his apartment. He hadn’t been sure how he would pull it off and was relieved when she’d toed them off and left them by the couch before excusing herself. The pro shop at the arena would exchange them for him if they didn’t work out, so he wasn’t worried about it.
“Hey, Ralph.” Nate smiled at the elderly security guard who always seemed to be on duty.
“Hi there, Nate. Miss.” He nodded his head in Chelsea’s direction.
“Hello.” She flashed a sweet smile.
“We won’t be more than ninety minutes or so,” Nate told him.
“Take your time, son. Us non-hockey players don’t learn to skate in ninety measly minutes.”
“We’re going to try.” Chelsea laughed.
“My plan is to get you moving on your own,” Nate told her. “But it’s probably going to take a few times to get you comfortable.”
“How old were you when you learned to skate?”
He frowned. “Honestly, I don’t remember. Five? It wasn’t a big thing in Dallas, but I loved it so much my nanny would take me every Saturday and—”
“Your nanny?”
“Yeah. My mom got sick around that time, so they hired a nanny because she had to rest.”
“Cancer?”
He nodded. “She fought hard. My dad said they tried everything, from surgery and chemo to holistic treatments, and at the end, he even got her marijuana for the pain and nausea. As much as we don’t get along these days, I know he loved her. Losing her is part of what made him the way he is. He keeps trying to replace her instead of just falling in love with someone new, someone for the man he is now, instead of the man he was when he fell in love with my mother.”
“That’s very insightful.”
Nate put the bag down on the bench where the team sat during games, opening it and pulling out her new skates.
“For me?” she asked, her eyes round with surprise. “But how did you…?”
“I checked the size on your shoes when you took them off at the apartment.”
She shook her head. “Very sneaky, Mr. Calloway.”
“I try.” He pulled off the skate guards and opened them as wide as the laces would allow. “They’re not going to be very comfortable at first, and it’s best to tie the laces tightly so you have good ankle support. Go ahead and put them on.”
She kicked off her booties and he glanced at the little socks she wore. They hadn’t even been visible with her short boots on.
“Those socks aren’t going to cut it,” he said. “Luckily, I have extra.”
“Oh my God, they’re huge!” She laughed, taking the proffered socks.
“They’ll protect your feet a little so the skates don’t tear up your ankles.”
“Okay.” She put them on, and he helped her get the skates on and laced tightly. He’d chosen hockey skates versus figure skates since he thought it would be easier for her. The blades on figure skates were longer, heavier and wider, with toe picks that aided in stopping. Hockey skates had deeper, narrow blades made for speed and quick changes in direction. He’d gotten her a cheaper version of his own since his skates were custom-made for his feet, but he hoped it wasn’t too ridiculous. Maybe she wouldn’t notice.
“Hey, mine are just like yours,” she said, watching him put his skates on.
So much for not noticing.
“I got you a pair similar to mine. These are custom, made to fit my feet, but yours are close.”
“Cool. Thank you.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes expectantly.
Damn. She was hard to resist. He kissed her back, sliding his tongue between her lips and getting his first taste of her in what felt like forever. Kissing her was natural now, as if they’d done it a lot more than a few times, and it was nice. Okay, that was a lie. It was way better than nice. His cock sprang to life immediately, but that was bad considering where they were, so he gently pulled away.
“Skating first,” he said in a light voice. “Kissing later.”
“Fine, you slave driver.” She gave a put-upon sigh.
“Come on, this is supposed to be fun.” He tugged her to her feet and pushed open the door leading to the ice. “Step down carefully.”
He held her gloved hand, helping her balance as she tentatively moved her feet.
“It feels so weird,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Like I’m going to wipe out any minute.”
“It takes a little while, but honestly, I’m as comfortable on ice as I am on foot. Once you adjust to how your body needs to move, it’ll be natural.”
“I think it’s natural to you because you’re a natural athlete. I, on the other hand, am not.”
“You’re doing great.” He turned so he was skating backward, holding both her hands in front of him. “Don’t try to walk,” he said. “Glide. Move your legs but don’t take steps.”
They moved around in a circle until she was finally able to stop taking steps and let her legs control her stilted but smoother movements.
“Is it freaky when you’re out here and the arena is full?” she asked. “I mean, it’s empty and I’m kind of freaked out, wondering who’s watching, what we look like down here.”
“The only people possibly watching are some bored maintenance workers or security doing rounds. As for it being freaky, not anymore. I was nervous my first night here, but I’ve been playing in front of crowds since I was seven or eight. The older I got, the bigger the crowds got, and the fans in Boston are intense. It’s almost as crazy as NHL fans, so I’m used to it. We’re all human, so sometimes it gets to you, whether it’s anxiety or excitement, but mostly I focus on what I’m doing. Do you get nervous when your articles go live?”
She was thoughtful. “Sometimes. I mean, I’m more nervous when I turn them in to my editor because that’s my job, and no one likes to be told they didn’t do a good job. I don’t worry as much about reader responses. Sometimes people make asinine remarks on the website, but in general, it’s all good.”
“It’s the same for me. Sometimes you get a heckler, but most of the time, it’s business as usual. There will always be haters from the opposing team, whether it’s the players themselves or their fans, but in general, we have a job to do and you can’t get caught up in the emotions.”
“It’s so quiet,” she noted, looking around. “But it’s kind of cool too.”
“I thought it was freaky,” he teased.
“It’s both freaky and cool. And romantic. This was a fantastic surprise. I love it.”
“I’m glad.” He gently released her hands. “Okay, time for you to fly solo.”
“Huh?” She looked down in horror.
“Go on, do it. Skate on your own. Once you can do that, we’ll work on stopping.”
“Ugh.” She made a face but was laughing.
He gave her a little nudge. “Let’s see what you got.”
“Clumsiness and fear.”
“Clumsiness, maybe, but no fear. I won’t let you fall. Promise.”
“Okay, here goes.”
18
They skated for another hour, with Nate giving her tips and Chelsea slowly but surely making progress. Stopping was much harder than skating around in a circle, so they worked on that last until her feet screamed for mercy and her legs ached pitifully. Finally, Nate led her off the ice and back to the bench, where she collapsed in mock exhaustion.
“No wonder you’re in such great shape,” she muttered. “I feel like I burned a week’s worth of calories.”
“Maybe a day’s worth.” He grinned.
“Ohhh…my poor feet.”
“You have to break in your skates,” he said. “If you want, I can take these to the pro shop and have them molded for your feet.”
“Huh?” She stared at him.
“Skates are made to the same basic specifications in general. Unless they’re custom, it’s a one size fits all thing that’s not really going to fit your feet since everyone’s feet are different. Newer skates are made with this in mind. So there’s a technique they use called baking them. And it’s exactly what it sounds like. They put them in a little oven, at a much lower heat than a normal oven, but it makes them soft enough so they’ll mold to your feet.”
“So I put each foot into a skate that’s just come out of the oven?”
“Exactly. But when it cools, it remembers the shape of your foot so no blisters.”
“Holy shit. For real?”
“Yup.”
“Who knew?”
“Well, hockey players.”
They laughed.
“So, I wanted to ask you something,” she asked as they walked out to his car.
“Shoot.”
“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”
“I was told that Cody and his wife always host the guys who don’t have family to come to town. Since he’s the team captain, he takes it upon himself to make sure no one is ever alone on the holidays, especially the younger guys.”
“Oh.”
“Why?” His eyes met hers curiously.
“My mom said…” She cleared her throat. “My mom thought I should invite my young man for the holiday since I mentioned you’re not going to see your family.”
“Do you want me to come?” The air stood still as he waited for her response.
She nodded. “Yes, but…I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable…like maybe this is a big step for us or something.”
“It’s Thanksgiving.”
“With my very big, old-fashioned family. They’re good people but don’t be surprised if you get the ‘what are your intentions’ questions.”
“What’s my answer to that?” he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I don’t think we’ve gotten far enough to have intentions, have we?”
“Exactly. So my response would be a very polite version of ‘we’ve only been dating about a month so I don’t have any intentions beyond seeing her regularly so we can get to know each other.’”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “You are definitely not like anyone I’ve ever dated,” she whispered.
“That’s a good thing, right?” he asked, stroking her hair.
“Yes.”
“I’d love to come to Thanksgiving dinner.”
“You would?” She looked up.
“Absolutely.”
Nate was nervous about Thanksgiving at Chelsea’s. As he skated off the ice after the game the night before, he followed Toli into the locker room.
“You have a few minutes to talk when we get out of here?” he asked him.
Toli cocked his head. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. This is personal, not professional.”
“Girl troubles?” Toli asked knowingly, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Not trouble. Just need advice.”
“Sure. Want to get a drink?”
“Don’t you have to get home?”
“Tessa isn’t cooking tomorrow, we’re going to Zakk and Tiff’s, so I can go out for a quick one.”
“Thanks. That would be great.”
“Meet you at Keller’s as soon as we get out of here.”
“See you there.”
Nate showered, dressed, and headed out in record time. He had a hundred things on his mind, but there wasn’t anyone he could talk to about them. With Toli, at least, he could skirt around the issue of his virginity and still discuss his inexperience with relationships. The other guys, even those who’d become his friends over the last two months, would tease him in ways he couldn’t stomach right now. Not when his relationship with someone as special as Chelsea was on the line. He really didn’t want to screw this up but meeting her parents took them to the next level, and sex was on the horizon. It had to be.
“What’s on your mind?” Toli asked as they settled at the bar.
“Chelsea’s parents invited me to spend Thanksgiving with them and I’m…nervous.”
“Why?”
“It’s my first time.” Now that was a play on words if there ever was one.
“Meeting a girl’s parents?”
Nate nodded. “I mean, the usual high school stuff, but this is different.”
“Do you like her?”
“Yes.”
“A lot?”
Nate frowned. “We’ve gone out maybe five times…I mean, we talk and text all the time, but we haven’t spent a lot of time together.”
“Is the sex good?”
Nate nearly choked on his beer.
“Ah. You’re being a gentleman.” Toli nodded. “Now I see. So either you don’t like her that much or you like her a lot. That’s the only reason you wouldn’t have had sex yet.”
Well, there were other reasons, but Nate wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Just be yourself,” Toli continued. “What else can you do? She’s obviously a smart, hard-working young woman. If you plan to keep seeing her, be casual and respectful, but show her family that she means something to you. Otherwise, don’t go. Not with her being a journalist and covering the team. That’s not the kind of girl you lead on or play games with. If you don’t think it’s real, walk away.”
“Thanks. I appreciate this. It’s hard to talk to the guys I know best because they’re all about hook-ups and puck bunnies and all that.”
“You guys are young. This is the time for all that. I did it too, on and off, every time my ex and I broke up.”
Nate shrugged. “Been there, done that, I’m over it.”
“Then what does your gut say? Is it screaming you want to be with her all the time? See her? Touch her? Listen to her voice?”
“Do the other guys know what a romantic you are?”
“Absolutely.” Toli quirked an eyebrow at him. “And don’t change the subject.”
“Yeah, kinda. We talk and text constantly when we can’t see each other, but it hasn’t been that long.” Nate looked away, but the smile playing on his lips was hard to hide. He definitely wanted to touch her. Too bad he was too scared to actually do it.
“I knew I was going to be with my wife forever within a few weeks,” Toli said with an impatient wave of his hand. “She was everything I’d been looking for. Except married.”
“You dated a married woman?”
“Her husband had filed for divorce, so they were separated, but legally she was still married. And yet I knew.”
“I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”
“But you haven’t slept together. That will give you the final piece of the puzzle.”
“You think?” Nate couldn’t help the surprise in his voice.
Toli was quiet for a moment, studying him intently. “There’s something you’re not telling me, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“I’m sure you can if you think hard enough, but we shouldn’t go there.” Nate took a long pull from his beer, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.
