Her curly hair blows back from her face, her cheeks red from the cold. I think this might be the most fun I’ve had in such a long time, I can’t remember anything else.
“Want to try to skate on your own?” I ask.
She shakes her head furiously, which almost causes her to fall. I lock my arms, thankful for the upper-body strength, and set her right again.
Laughing, I glance over my shoulder and note we’re in no danger of running into anyone.
Giving my attention back to Sophie, I ask, “Want to try to spin around?”
“Pass,” she says without hesitation.
I laugh again, but before I can tease her, my skate catches on something, and my left leg buckles. Gravity pulls my much bigger body down fast, and I try to let go of Sophie’s hands.
But she won’t let go of mine.
I fall backward, landing hard on my ass, and Sophie comes crashing down. The force of her momentum knocks me on my back, and at this point, to keep her safe, my arms go around her waist.
Sophie lands on top of me, her body flush against mine.
There is no pain from the fall, and I’m not in the slightest bit cold, despite lying on the ice in only jeans and a winter jacket.
It’s hard to feel anything but warmth with Sophie on top of me, her lovely face curtained by all those golden locks hovering over me.
Her palms are against my chest, her expression drenched in worry. “Are you okay?”
I laugh as I nod. “I’m fine. You?”
“I landed on you, not the ice,” she exclaims, laughing now that she knows I’m not hurt.
“That wasn’t very graceful,” I muse, my arms refusing to relinquish their embrace.
“You’re a hockey player, not a figure skater,” she points out.
“Hockey coach,” I clarify.
“For sure,” she teases, her white teeth flashing. “You were all kinds of klutzy just now.”
Caught up in the humor, perhaps she’s not paying attention to the fact that all the right parts of her body are pressed down on mine.
But I’m paying attention, and a fucking friend shouldn’t feel this good. I try to focus on the freezing ice wetting my clothes and that my lower back is actually a little achy.
All good things to distract myself, but fuck if I can’t stop staring at her mouth inches from mine as she smiles down at me.
Her smile slips, though, and I realize it’s because I’m not smiling. In fact, I’d been staring at her lips just before noticing her smile fading.
It would be so fucking easy to move one hand from her back, cup it around her neck, and pull her down for a kiss.
Except… I have no clue if she’d even want that. Her face is frustratingly impassive, and I don’t want to ruin something that might only ever be a friendship.
But then again, no risk, no reward. Maybe I should make the move and see if something is there, as I suspect there might be. If she’s not into it, I’ll apologize, and we’ll move on.
I’m not able to imagine any more scenarios because my phone, tucked inside my coat’s chest pocket, starts ringing. It’s enough to break the mood, and my arms loosen. Sophie rolls to the side and then awkwardly manages to pull herself to standing. I stand up a little more gracefully and hold my hand out to her, ignoring the ringing phone. It’s my day off, and I have no one to answer to.
“We should probably get off the ice. Our clothes are wet.”
“Yeah,” she murmurs.
Holding hands, I pull her along slowly to the gate. We turn in our skates and put our shoes back on, and then I treat her to a watered-down hot chocolate.
Back in my rental car, I take a moment to check my phone. “Detective Gilmore called,” I say to Sophie as I tap the voicemail icon. He didn’t leave a message, so I dial him back.
As I put the phone to my ear, I see that Sophie seems to be ill at ease. She confided in me before that the whole photo-lineup process stressed her out because she couldn’t identify our attackers.
I switch the phone to my other ear and reach across the console to take her hand closest to mine. I give it a quick, firm squeeze, and she manages a smile.
The line connects on the second ring. “Gilmore.”
“It’s Baden Oulett,” I say by way of greeting. “Sorry I missed your call.”
“No worries,” he replies. “I’ve got an update for you.”
“Let me put you on speakerphone. I’ve got Sophie Winters with me.”
If Gilmore is surprised by this, I wouldn’t know because I pull the phone from my ear and tap the screen to put it on speaker.
“All right… we’re both here,” I say.
“Hello, Sophie,” Detective Gilmore says. “Hope you’re doing well.”
“I am,” she replies softly. Her shoulders are slightly hunched, and she looks like she would rather be listening to fingernails scrape a chalkboard.