Whispers on the Ice (25 page)

It was a day Jordan would never forget.

CHAPTER 18  

“Megan, get your chin up, sweetie, you’re looking at your feet again. Trust me, they’re still there—you don’t have to keep checking on them!” Jordan called across the rink to her young student practicing her back crossovers. “Bend your knees a little more and sit into it, Megan,” she encouraged, cringing a bit when her student lost her balance and waved her arms wildly before regaining control on the icy surface.

“That was close,” Jordan offered, skating to meet Megan at the far end of the rink. “That’s why I said to sit into it. When your knees are bent and you’re seated you always have room to stand up and regain your center, your balance. But when you’re already standing straight up there is no where to go but down, and we both know, you don’t like going down.”

“I know, I know. But I feel like my butt’s sticking out when I’m seated,” Megan complained.

“Sweetheart, you’re twelve years old. You don’t have a butt to worry about yet!” Jordan teased, flicking her nose playfully.

“I do too! It’s just a small one,” Megan shot back, turning around and wiggling her tiny rear end at her teacher and coach.

“I stand corrected,” Jordan amended, pulling Megan into her arms for a quick hug. “Tell you what, because you’re doing so great today, why don’t you do a final quick run through of your program and we’ll call it a day.”

“Do I have to? Jeez, Jordan, you run me into the ground. I am, after all, only twelve,” Megan grumbled.

“You’re right,” Jordan shrugged. “There’s still another three weeks before the show. You can probably skate this program in your sleep so I suppose you’re right, you don’t need the practice. So I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll skate your program for you, sort of give you some ideas what I’d like it to look like, and then you can skate it for me and we’ll compare the two performances and see what needs to be worked on. How’s that sound?” Jordan asked.

“Like a set up,” Megan complained.

“You’re too smart for me. So how about it, do we each take a turn or should we do it together?”

“Next to you, I’ll look terrible…”

“You never look terrible,” Jordan interrupted. “You’re a beautiful skater, Megan, and don’t you dare let anyone make you believe otherwise. Every skater is special in his or her own way, you happen to be a beautiful spinner and have a spiral worth killing for. Don’t you ever let me hear you down-talking yourself! Got it?” Jordan demanded in exasperation. Damn, pre-teens were a lot of work. Maybe she should rethink taking on the coaching job of two sixteen year olds that had been writing to her for months in the hopes of having her coach them.

“Okay, okay. I’m wonderful,” Megan rolled her eyes in exaggeration, laughing at Jordan’s mild attempt to look stern. “Still, I want to see what my program should look like.”

“Not what it
should
look like but what it looks like when I skate it. You have all the moves down, Megan. You just have to let the music into your heart and let your soul lead you. Now, you go take care of the music,” Jordan pushed her student toward the CD player at the edge of the rink.

Jordan skated to center ice, bending and stretching as she went and assumed the program’s starting position. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she nodded her head in readiness.

Megan pushed the play button and soon the rock and roll lyrics of
The Backstreet Boys
music filled the rink. Megan sang along as the
Boys
pleaded ‘Hey, Mr. D.J. keep playing that song for me’ echoed off the rafters, it’s sensual tempo matching Jordan’s steps as she stroked and turned and jumped to it’s beat. Her long legs and powerful strokes ate up the ice as she sped across its glossy surface.

Megan watched, totally fascinated and amazed at the speed and ease with which her coach flew through the routine, mentally making notes of hand and body movements she would borrow from her coach. The door behind her whooshed closed but Megan kept her eyes on the ice, enraptured.

“Hey, Meg,” George called softly, his eyes catching sight of Jordan as she flew across the ice in a perfect spread eagle position, her arms lifting seductively over her head. George shook his head, amazed yet again at the glory that was Jordan. “Takes your breath away, doesn’t she?” George stated.

The door behind them opened again, a clamoring of hockey bags loaded with equipment and sticks banged as the large man shoved everything through the partially opened door and dropped everything on the floor.

“Shit!” the man bearing the load growled, his voice deep yet tinged in humor.

“Nice move, Nick. You that good on the ice?” George teased, moving forward to hoist a couple of bags off the floor.

“Screw you,” the deep voice answered on a chuckle.

“Hey, watch it. There’re kids in here,” George nodded toward Megan.

“Sorry, kid,” Nick apologized, casting a brief glance at the young girl leaning against the rink’s wall. Skinny as a rail he thought, and totally absorbed watching the skater on the ice. How anyone could get that caught up watching someone dance around the ice was a mystery to him. He’d take hockey any day—now that was a sport!

Nick finished gathering up his fallen hockey equipment, swinging the last large bag over his shoulder as he stood up. Effortlessly he shouldered the large, heavy bag, his muscles rippling as he settled it into place, the hockey sticks banged together noisily.

“Sshh,” Megan hissed over her shoulder, her eyes widening in surprise when she caught sight of the man loaded down with hockey gear who looked at her in return. The man was huge—and gorgeous!

Nick cast a quick, dazzling smile at her, showing lots of white teeth and deep dimples. Her response to seeing him was typical; most people had the same amazed expression in their eyes when they first saw him. He’d long ago given up trying to
blend
with the crowd. At six foot four inches tall, the only people he
blended
with were the ones he played basketball with when he wasn’t playing hockey. His broad shoulders and muscular build could have taken him on to professional football if he hadn’t torn his left knee apart his senior year in college. And if his muscular physique wasn’t enough to catch the attention of people, his blue eyes finished the job, whether shining a bright sky blue in humor or flashing a deep sapphire in anger or passion, they were eyes not easily forgotten. His wavy light brown hair gleamed with golden highlights, a testament to time spent outdoors.

“Sorry,” Nick whispered in apology.

Megan cast a last glance over her shoulder and returned her gaze to the ice.

Nick followed Megan’s gaze and caught sight of the small figure on the far side of the ice executing a beautiful layback spin. Nick watched silently, drawn in by the beauty of the skater before him, amazed at the strength and stamina she displayed as she continued the program, seemingly without effort or strain. In the past he’d always thought figure skating was for wimps, but watching this slip of a girl fly across the ice at full speed made him wonder if he’d been wrong.

“Amazing, isn’t she?” George asked.

Nick nodded in agreement, unaware he held his breath as he watched her fly across the ice, leap into the air and turn three revolutions then land on one foot having successfully landed a triple axel. “Damn,” Nick mumbled to himself, astounded at her ability, but mostly, her courage to try such a move. He couldn’t imagine falling on the ice at that speed let alone throwing a jump in for good measure. “She’s so small. Is she old enough to be doing that stuff?” Nick questioned.

Megan gave him a look that clearly stated she thought he was crazy. “I wouldn’t recommend you let her hear you saying that. She’s very opinionated about her stature!” Megan explained.

“She’s only a kid. Is it safe for her to be doing that?” Nick questioned again, cringing after she landed another high jump.

“She knows what she’s doing. She’s been doing it for years,” Megan explained casually.

“She’s not old enough to have been doing it for
years
!” Nick stated, a strange urge to keep the small figure on the ice safe washing over him. The seductive lyrics of the song suddenly sunk in and he turned in disbelief toward George. “Jesus, George. Do you hear those words? What parent in their right mind would let their kid skate to music like that?”

“All the kids are listening to that music, Nick. It’s the
Backstreet Boys
. It’s a song, buddy, not the story of her life,” George answered, bewildered at his friend’s unusual behavior

Nick continued to watch Jordan, mesmerized by the way her body moved, confused by the way she effected him. “Who is she?” he finally asked.

“J.J.,” Megan answered, her tone reverent, her awe obvious.

“J.J.?” Nick questioned quietly, his tone a bit confused.

“Jordan Jamison,” George offered.

Nick heard George’s statement as if from far away, then his left leg suddenly started to ache and he shifted his weight to the right side, rubbing the muscles above his left knee. A strange feeling washed over him leaving him dizzy and flushed, a shower of glittering lights flickered before his eyes for a moment and then vanished as quickly as they appeared. Nick shook his head to clear his vision, wobbling slightly under the weight of the heavy bag on his shoulder.

“Hold on there, pal,” George urged, struggling to steady his friend as he watched him sway from side to side, grunting and straining when Nick leaned heavily against his much smaller form. “Damn, Nick, you need to go on a diet.” He groaned.

In short order the dizziness passed and Nick looked dazed, confusion clear in his blue eyes. It felt as if his dizzy spell had lasted for hours but only seconds had passed.

“What was that?” George asked, concern and bafflement blending.

“That hasn’t happened in a while,” Nick mumbled cryptically.

“What ‘that’? What the hell are you talking about?” George asked firmly.

“Sshh. There’re kids here,” Nick reminded him, nodding toward Megan who cast them occasional interested glances.

“Tough shit! What the hell was that little episode all about?” George persisted.

Nick heaved a sigh, his head clear again, only the line of sweat dripping down his spine remained from his dizzy spell. So what was the best way to explain this sort of thing to George without making him think he was stark raving nuts? “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Yeah, well, lucky for you, I’ve got nothing but time!” George stated.

“It’s really not all that interesting,” Nick offered nonchalantly.

“Try me—I’m into weird happenings.”

“I don’t remember mentioning the word ‘weird’.”

“No, you didn’t. But your whole ‘thing’ looked pretty weird to me so I’ll call it ‘weird’!”

“You’re being melodramatic, George.”

“You nearly crushed me under your forty tons of muscle and now you’re telling me it was nothing? It didn’t look like
nothing
to me, now quit mucking around and spill it!” George demanded firmly.

Nick saw, and understood, the determined look in his friend’s eyes, saw the concern, also, and decided to
spill it
as George had so succinctly suggested. “You’re not going to believe this,” Nick stated.

“Let me decide what I believe and what I don’t. I just want to know if I’m going to have to be hauling your sorry ass off the ice on a regular basis,” George returned.

“Okay, fine,” Nick sighed deeply, ran his hands through his hair, cast a final glance toward the ice where Jordan was finishing her program and proceeded to tell George his story.

* * * * *

Jordan’s t-stop caused a rooster tail of ice crystals to trail her as she slid to a stop next to the wall where Megan stood. “Okay, your turn,” Jordan stated, her rapid breathing making little puffs of clouds in the cold air.

“I don’t know…” Megan began to stall.

“No you don’t—we made a bargain. It’s your turn. Now go show me how it’s done!” Jordan urged, pushing her toward the center of the ice and walking to the CD player. On Megan’s cue, she pushed the PLAY button and watched her student skate the same program, smiling as she noticed the
borrowed
moves she had performed only moments before. As she watched Megan move across the ice, a tingling sensation ran up her spine, like fingers grazing sensually against her skin, like Aleksei had done so long ago. She glanced over her shoulder, noticed George talking to a tall man with very broad shoulders and light brown hair with his back to her. Shaking off the odd sensation, Jordan returned her attention to Megan and watched her work her way toward her final jump, a double toe loop. As Megan reached back to dig her toe-pick into the ice, she lost the edge on her supporting leg and hit the ice hard, sliding into the boards knee first and collapsed to the ice. Jordan was on the ice before Megan came to a stop, skating as fast as she could to her student’s side and sliding to a stop beside her, then kneeling onto the ice.

“Talk to me Megan. Where does it hurt?” Jordan asked calmly, taking Megan’s face in her hands and looking into her eyes. “Focus, sweetie. Look at me and breathe—real slow. In through the nose—out through the mouth. Come on do it with me,” Jordan urged, catching a glimpse of George and the man he’d been speaking with coming across the ice toward them. “How you doing, Megan?”