Taking the Ice (Ice Series Book 3) (7 page)

A tall, dark-haired waiter who looked like he’d just arrived straight from Italy stepped up to our table, and Stephanie’s snarl quickly turned into a smile. We gave our drink orders, and her eyes followed the waiter as he retreated to the kitchen.

“Excellent restaurant choice,” she said.

I laughed and unfolded my napkin. Stephanie’s phone vibrated on the white tablecloth, and she picked it up, read the message, and slapped it face down.

“I will be so glad when I’m done with this job and this idiot.”

“Are you still thinking of moving to New York after graduation?” Josh asked.

“Depends who gives me the best offer. I feel like I should probably experience the scene in New York for a few years, though.”

“If you want to do more costume design, you’ll have a ton of customers,” I said. “Everyone has been raving about the ones you made for us.”

“Wait until they see your exhibition dress.” She paused and flashed a smile at the waiter as he set down her glass of red wine. “I impressed even myself with that one.”

“When Court tried it on to show me, I had no words,” Josh said.

I grinned and brushed my leg against his. He’d had no words but he’d said plenty in the hot way he’d looked at me and touched me as he’d helped me out of the dress. I’d chosen pink because I was wearing that color the first time Josh saw me skate, and our exhibition program was about the unlikely journey we’d traveled since that moment. I just hoped when we debuted it Sunday after the competition, it would be a triumphant performance and not a sorrowful one.

“Oh, hell,” Stephanie said as she gazed out the window.

I curved my neck to see the problem and found it in the form of Mr. and Mrs. Tucker on the sidewalk. They’d spotted us and were now entering the restaurant. I prayed for a trap door to open under my feet. Rehashing the short program was
not
what I felt like doing.

“I tried calling both of you.” Mrs. Tucker eyed Stephanie and Josh as she cast her dark shadow over the table.

“I was dealing with work stuff,” Stephanie said.

Josh offered no explanation. I was sure he’d chosen to ignore his mom’s calls.

“Can you put our tables together?” Mrs. Tucker asked the hostess.

“There’s not much space,” Josh argued, but the hostess had already begun scurrying under Mrs. Tucker’s sharp stare.

The waiter returned to take our dinner orders, and I longed for him to stay. Not because he was good-looking, but so he could distract Mrs. Tucker from bringing up my miscue on the ice. Stephanie helped the cause, laughing and flipping her long, brown hair over her shoulder as she discussed vegan ingredients with him.

“So, fourth place,” Mrs. Tucker said as soon as the waiter left.

“Yes, and looking forward to the free skate,” Josh jumped in with no hesitation. “We’ve already put today behind us, so we don’t need any more discussion on it.”

“Well, I suppose that’s the only attitude you can have right now considering…” She sent me a cool sidelong glance past Josh, who sat between us.

I took a long drink of water and noticed Mr. Tucker typing on his phone as usual. He might’ve been completely out of touch with his family, but I’d take that over his wife’s sudden meddling in our business.

“Are you coming to Sochi with us?” Mrs. Tucker asked Stephanie. “
If
we have a reason to go.”

Josh’s hand clenched around his glass, and I touched his thigh under the table.

“I told you I’m not,” Stephanie said. “I can’t take more time away from school and work.”

Mrs. Tucker hummed quietly. “We have a large suite on the sea, so if you change your mind we have plenty of room.”

“What are the dates again?” Mr. Tucker finally put his attention on the humans around him instead of the object in his hand. “Second week of February?”

“The Opening Ceremony is the seventh,” I said before anyone else could answer. I’d memorized all the key dates:

Team Event Short Program — February Sixth

Team Event Free Skate — February Eighth

Pairs Event Short Program — February Eleventh

Pairs Event Free Skate — February Twelfth

Mr. Tucker stared at me for a second as if what I’d said didn’t make sense, and then he turned to Mrs. Tucker. “I have a conference in Napa that weekend.”

She plunked her wine glass down hard. “I told Christy to put the trip on your calendar.”

“I don’t see it.” He scrolled on his phone.

“I’m sure you can skip the conference.”

He looked up, his light eyes solidly fixed on his wife. “No. I can’t.”

“You’ve known all along we would be going to Sochi in February.” Mrs. Tucker’s tone harshened further. “You should’ve checked with me before you booked this conference.”

“Maybe if you actually talked to each other instead of communicating through Dad’s secretary, you wouldn’t have these problems,” Stephanie snapped.

My eyebrows shot up, and I tapped the floor, wishing for that trap door again. Just when I’d thought the dinner couldn’t be any more uncomfortable, I got to sit in the middle of the Tucker Family Bicker Hour.

“You should ask one of your friends to go with you,” Mr. Tucker said.

“One of my friends?” Mrs. Tucker spat out. “You need to be there representing the family with me.”

Oh my God. They’re fighting over a trip that could possibly not even happen.

I massaged my temples.
That’s not positive thinking
, I reminded myself, but I had to keep it real.

“I need to be in Napa growing my business. The one that’s paying for this luxury suite in Russia.” Mr. Tucker swirled his wine and downed all of it.

Josh pushed his hand through his hair. “Can we please talk about something else or not talk at all? We’re trying to stay focused on one event at a time, that being our long program in two days. Nothing else.”

Mrs. Tucker was still glaring at her husband. “We’ll discuss the trip later.”

“There’s nothing more to discuss,” he fired back.

Stephanie groaned and threw her napkin on the table. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

“I think I’ll join you,” I said, seeking at least a momentary escape.

When we emerged at the sinks a few minutes later, Stephanie scrubbed her hands together and pounded them dry with paper towels.

“I swear I’m never getting married,” she said. “It’s just misery waiting to happen.”

“Not every couple is like that,” I said.

“Most of the ones I’ve seen are,” she said and swept out the door.

I stood there, slowly wiping my hands. Josh had grown up in the same dysfunctional environment as Stephanie, but I’d never thought he was jaded about marriage. With his silence on the topic lately, though, I had to wonder if all the dysfunction had affected him, too.

I crumpled the paper towel and tossed it into the trash, which was where I needed to put my worries, too.
All that should be on your mind is skating.

****

T
HE CROWD ROARED, DROWNING
out the music, and I shivered from the goosebumps covering my arms. The skating, the emotion, the atmosphere… everything had been perfect. It was exactly how I envisioned our final nationals performance.

“What are you watching?” Josh asked as he came out of the bathroom, his hair still glistening from the shower.

I propped up on my elbows and turned down the volume on my phone. “Em and Chris’s nationals free skate here in 2001. It was one of the greatest skates I’ve ever seen and the most electric atmosphere I’ve ever experienced.”

Josh sat on the end of the bed and peered at the tiny screen, where Sergei was hugging a sobbing Em.

“Were you crying in the stands?” He smiled.

“I was. I was bawling.”

I actually had a little lump in my throat watching now and recalling the energy in the building that night.

“That can easily be us tomorrow afternoon,” Josh said.

I stared at the video. Em and Chris’s near-perfect scores came up, and they were both wide-eyed with shock and glee as they embraced in the kiss and cry. The announcer’s voice couldn’t be heard over the audience’s screaming. God, I wanted that to be us tomorrow so badly.

“We’ve put in so much work, and I’ve come so close before.” I looked up at Josh. “We have to get our storybook ending, right?”

“I believe what may seem like an impossible dream can very much come true. The fact that you’re here with me right now is proof.”

I smiled and soaked in the adoration in his eyes. There was never a second with Josh that I didn’t feel loved. I kissed his arm and nuzzled my nose to his warm skin, and he bent and buried his lips in my hair.

“There’s something I want to give you.” He got up and went to his suitcase. “I was going to wait until after we skated, but…”

My heart thundered as Josh dug under the clothes in his bag.
Is this the moment?
I scrambled to sit up, and I touched my ring finger. Would it no longer be empty in a few minutes?

Josh turned around with a flat, square something in his hands, and I almost laughed at how he kept unknowingly faking me out. He had no idea how much he was torturing me.

He returned to my side and handed me the wrapped gift. “I’ve had this for a long time, but I thought this weekend would be the perfect time to give it to you.”

I tore away the gold paper and flipped over the picture frame. Two photos filled the front of the red frame. The one on the right I recognized immediately — a shot of Josh and me in our Team USA jackets at our first competition together. The picture on the left also showed us in our team jackets, but we were teenagers. It took me a few seconds to place the scene, and when I did I looked up at Josh with disbelief.

“How did you get this picture? And did you crop out the old lady?” I laughed.

“The day after we took it I—“

Josh’s phone rang on the bed, and he leaned back to see the screen. “It’s one of my students’ moms. Sorry, I’d better get it.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

While he answered the call, I gazed at the photo and smiled as memories of that morning at nationals in Atlanta ten years ago flooded over me.

“What do you want to do today to celebrate?” Mom asked as we finished breakfast in the hotel restaurant. “A national championship deserves something very special.”

I smiled and drank the last of my chocolate milk. My partner Mark and I had finally reached the top of the podium, winning the junior title in pairs. It had been the highlight of my fifteen-year life.

“Maybe we can go shopping… and look at iPods?” I gave Mom a hopeful grin.

“We might be able to do that.”

I did a jig in my seat and folded my linen napkin. “I’m gonna get some more fruit.”

I headed over to the buffet but stopped when I saw Josh Tucker, one of my competitors, looking at the fruit selection. He was a year older than me and SO freaking cute with his shaggy dark hair and clear blue eyes. But we’d hardly spoken since we’d played Seven Minutes in Heaven (or rather, Seven Minutes in Hell) two years ago. I’d wanted him to be my first kiss so badly, but all we’d shared were seven minutes of near silence. Even though Josh was a super quiet guy, I’d hoped he would make just a little move on me. I’d gotten nothing.

Normally I didn’t go out of my way to talk to him because I still felt weird about that night, but I was feeling especially confident with my new champion status. I grabbed a small plate and hopped up to Josh’s side.

“I’ll fight you for that last piece of cantaloupe.”

He looked startled, and he fumbled the silver tongs and dropped them on the bar, causing a loud clang. “You can umm… you can have it.”

“I was just joking,” I said with a little laugh.

He echoed my laugh but with a nervous edge. “I know, but you… it’s yours.”

He offered me the tongs, keeping his head down. I reached for them, and our fingers brushed, sparking tingles from my scalp to my toes. Josh finally looked up at me, for only a few seconds, but the light in his eyes was enough for the tingles to flush my cheeks.

“Thanks.” I dipped my own head, suddenly not feeling so confident anymore.

“Excuse me.” An older lady tapped the arm of Josh’s Team USA jacket. “Can I get a picture with you and your partner?”

She motioned to me, and Josh and I both stammered while talking over each other.

“I’m not—“

“She’s not—“

“I’m not his partner,” I finished.

“Oh, sorry about that. Too many faces to keep straight,” she said.

“We can still take a picture with you,” Josh said.

I raised my eyebrows, but the lady was already handing her camera to the elderly man with her. Josh and I set down our plates, and I waited for the woman to stand between us, but Josh led her to his opposite side so he was in the middle.

Next to me.

He hesitated a moment and then stretched his arm across my shoulders. It was wiry but solid. I inched closer and curved mine around his waist, slotting perfectly into the nook of his body.

Holy Romeo, he smelled good.

The scent of his cologne was slightly sweet and made me light-headed. I barely registered the camera flash firing. I was too busy picturing Josh putting his other arm around me and giving me the kiss he owed me.

“Thank you, kids,” the lady said.

Josh slowly let his arm fall away from my shoulders, and he shuffled backward and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“That was hilarious,” he said. “I don’t look anything like Mark.”

“And I sure don’t look like Stephanie,” I said of his partner and sister. I was about to add, “Don’t act like her either” because she was a first-class snob, but I stopped myself from being rude.

Josh’s eyes focused on mine, and it felt as if he was saying something to me he couldn’t say out loud. From the way he was looking at me, it had to be important. My pulse picked up more speed every second he waited to speak.