Fresh Ice (21 page)

The haunted expression vanished and Quinn laughed out loud. “Phlegm wad?
”

“I have this very odd feeling, suddenly, like I’ve just walked into a movie where I’m the star, and I’m the only one without a script.” She bit her lip, not liking her sharp tone. “How about maybe you tell me why you’re a face in the crowd during the two biggest awful moments of my life?”

She again waited for an answer, but Quinn kept his gaze fixed on the Nashville skyline. “Okay. Let me simplify the question: Why were you in the crowd at Nationals?”

“Nationals?” Quinn drank deep from his coffee and shifted the weight on his feet. “How would you know that?” He set the coffee cup on the side table.

What is he hiding?
“Cat, it turns out, is not just a walking movie trivia encyclopedia. She is also a maniac for US figure skating. Today she put together the puzzle that is my life, and she lost her mind. Especially when I told her I was going on a date with you.”

A faint smile crossed his face and he relaxed slightly. “Let me guess, there was a reference to ‘The Cutting Edge?’”

“Oh yes. But the best part is, she has a tape of Nationals. So she, Jenna and I watched the routine.”

“I’ll bet that was interesting.” He kept his gaze away from her.

Izzy shook her head. “It was like traveling back in the worst time machine ever.”

“Why would you say that?”

“At the time I thought it was the start of something so huge and beautiful.” She shrugged. “And it wasn’t. It was the end of my skating career. It was the end of my life in Nashville. It was the end of my girlish ideals about romance and love.” She realized she spoke without emotion, simply relaying facts. “I sat there watching that tape today and all I wanted to do was scream at myself.”

He sat next to her then, as if some defense shield vanished, enabling him to move again. His arm was light around her shoulders. “If you don’t want to talk about this…”

Izzy shook her head. “It wasn’t like I was watching me. I was watching some girl, some stupid, misguided girl who listened to some very bad advice.” She nestled into the crook of his arm. “Anyway, watching the routine was not nearly as interesting as the crowd shots between performances. I have to say, you looked really good with the longer hair. You’ve got a head made for a mullet.”

“Oh lord.” Quinn laughed, pushing the glider back and forth with his foot. “I’d like to forget how dedicated I was to ‘hockey hair.’”

“Which brings me back to my question. You were still in college, in North Dakota. What were you doing at a Figure Skating Nationals in the Twin Cities?” Izzy sat up as the glider came to a halt. Quinn seemed very far away. “Quinn?”

“You want the truth?”

“Yes, of course.”

Quinn turned to face her and took both her hands in his. “I’d seen you on TV a few times, and the way you skated, I connected with it. Watching you was like watching something really delicate and magical. I had to see you skate live. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going, I would never have lived it down with the guys on the team, you know.” He paused and looked deep into her eyes, the glow in his own eyes melting the icy edges of Izzy’s heart. “You left me breathless. I fell in love with you. At least, I fell in love with my idea of what you’d be like.”

“Quinn…”

“So at the funeral, I really needed to see if you were still, you know, you. And you were, just maybe a more fragile, more delicate version.”

“But how…”

He touched her lips gently. “If I don’t tell you this now, I might not ever. When I saw you at Second Chance’s, I was suddenly that stupid college kid again. The last few years I’ve started carrying so much garbage around, I barely recognize myself. But seeing you in the balcony, you made me feel like I was a kid again, anything was possible. I went to look for you later, but you were gone. I’d lost you again. When we ran into each other on the street that night, you were like a bird trying to escape a cage. We had this amazing meal together, I felt like there was this connection, and then I lost you again. Then one horrible rainy morning, I walk into my favorite Waffle House, and you’re there! It was a gift I was not going to lose again. I got be your friend, I got to know you, who you are, and I find out that you are the kindest, most thoughtful person I have ever met.” He squeezed her hands and took a deep breath. “And then, god, watching you skate today. You still left me breathless.”

Izzy bit her lip, a single question tugging in her brain. “How did you know Jason and I were…us? I mean, we changed our names. I didn’t think anyone knew.”

A shadow darkened his face and cleared so quickly, Izzy thought she imagined it. “I don’t know. One of the guys must have told me. Jason must have said something.”

Who would Jason have trusted enough to tell?

Sean probably said something to one of the players.

Izzy shook her head, and focused on Quinn. His expression was unguarded, unlike any he’d worn around her. “Why didn’t you say anything before this? We’ve known each other for months, you never said a word.”

He drew her hands up in his and kissed them both. “I was sort of…afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Most people never have to handle half the life changing things you got fired at you in a few months. At first I thought I was just hanging around to keep an eye on you. Make sure you were okay. You bring out the protector in me. I liked feeling that way.”

“Well, I do have that sort of helpless maiden quality.” She smiled at him, hoping he would hear the humor in her voice.

He smiled back, but there was little joy in the smile. “Once I got to know you, I realized I was getting more from you than you were from me. You gave me something I thought I’d lost. You made me feel like a good person, like I could be a good person.”

“You are.”

He kissed her hands again. “No. I’m not. I’m a very bad person who does some good stuff on occasion.”

Izzy hunched to look up at his face. “But you’re so wrong.”

“It’s nice that you think so.” Quinn sat up and shrugged. “Before I saw you at Nationals, I was failing school, I was an idiot. You inspired me to get my act together. I went back to school, got my grades up, played the best hockey of my life, and managed to get drafted by Detroit. My dreams came true.”

Izzy smiled, and tried to lighten the mood. “You’re welcome for that.” She snuggled back into the warm space beneath his shoulder. “I’m still not buying the idea that you’re a bad guy.”

“Just wait, I’m not done.” Quinn shook his head. “You weren’t skating anymore, and that inspiration vanished. One by one, I ruined the things that should have mattered most. The first, my liver. I’ve done my best over the years to just destroy the bastard. The second…let’s just say that where there’s alcohol and professional athletes, there will also be women. Those two things hand a very big hand in ruining my relationships with my three brothers, and my sister, who won’t ever talk to me. I ruined my reputation in the league. I could have been something special. I had all the tools. What I didn’t have was the discipline. Detroit traded me to Chicago. Chicago traded me to San Jose. San Jose outright cut me after a lousy season and an incident involving three airline attendants and a very large bottle of mescal. After San Jose, I spent some time in Toronto. I liked it up there. Close to home, I started to mend my ways. Then I got hurt, and they put me on waivers. That’s when Nashville picked me up in a trade. I spent some time playing in Milwaukee, with the Admirals, rehabbing the knee. Then I came here. Everything was great, I was back on top. Big fish, medium sized pond. And all my old habits started coming back. And then…” he stopped.

And then what?
Izzy waited a few heartbeats for him to continue talking. All she heard was the rhythmic beat of his heart.
For all the honesty, there’s a part of the story he’s not ready to tell.

“And then you showed up in my life. You were my own personal angel. Every time I saw you, talked to you, I felt lighter like a weight was lifted. So I didn’t tell you I knew who you were because I was afraid you’d run away.”

Izzy sat up straight and brushed his hair away from his face. “How on earth could I run from you?” She kissed his forehead, “You’re my hero.”

Quinn started to laugh. “I’ve never been thought of as any kind of hero.”

“Are you kidding me? Today…that kid…you are totally his hero. You’ve been mine since the first time we ran into each other.”

“Now I know you’re kidding.”

“I am being completely serious. I was scared to death to move here. But then it turned out okay.” She closed her eyes.
How could I not have thought of this before? How did I not put this together?
“There were cards at the funeral. People put money in them.” She peered up at his face. His jaw tightened and he didn’t meet her look. “There was one card, it was unsigned, so I never knew whom to thank.”

“Sometimes people don’t want to be thanked for something like that. They just want to know it’s going to be okay.”

“It was more generous, I think, than that giver ever knew. There was quite a lot of cash and a lottery ticket.”

“Really.” His voice was soft, far away.

“That ticket was a winner. Enough for me to escape Adele and move here.”

“Enough for you to live the glamorous life of a night waitress living in an efficiency? Not exactly the safety net a real hero would provide.”

“My hero isn’t just about doling out rent money. Sometimes he gets rowdy college boys to be polite.”

“You would have been fine.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I had a hundred different scenarios running through my head and all of them ended with the day waitress coming in and finding my dead body on table three. But there you were, you said a few words and they were gone. Every time I saw you in the restaurant, I felt less anxious about working there. As long as you’re around, I feel safe. No, I won’t be running away.” She shivered, the chilly air working its way through the blanket.

“It’s getting cold out here.” Quinn hopped up immediately. “What say, we get you indoors and out of that dress?”

“What?” She blushed.

“Oh, sorry.” He gave her an endearingly sheepish grin. “I mean, I’ve got some warm clothes you might be more comfortable in. I can warm up the coffee, and get the fireplace going, and we could hang out?” He held out his hand and she took it as she stepped into the apartment. He flipped a switch and blue and yellow flames glowed in the fireplace. “There, that’s cozy. Let me just grab something for you to slip into…” he strode into his bedroom and returned a moment later, holding a large wad of pink material. “Here ya go, you can change in the bedroom if you’d like. I’ve got the fireplace going in there as well, so you’re not cold.”

“I can’t believe you still have this!” She held up the massive pink sweatshirt he’d worn that first rainy morning in the Waffle House. “Why on earth did you keep it?”

“Very weird thing. I wore it home, and I was going to return it to your lost and found because, who knows when a very well endowed college co-ed was going to come looking for her school spirit shirt. But for some reason I kept forgetting it.” He flashed a wicked grin. “I like to imagine holding onto a woman that would fill out that shirt.”

“Now that’s not something a hero would ever say!” She laughed.

“Clearly you are not familiar with the concept of the bad boy hero.” Quinn’s smile was genuine, the first really relaxed expression she’d seen on his face in an hour. “So go get changed, I’ll warm up the coffee.”

“Can’t do it.”
I’m not putting this thing on. I don’t care if I freeze to death.

“Why not? You’ll be way more comfortable in that. I set some sweat pants on the bed. They’ll be a little long, but warm.”

“I’m not wearing this when you’re still in your proper date clothes.”

“You want me out of my clothes? Not a problem!” Quinn slipped off his suit coat, tossed it into his bedroom and pulled his dress shirt over his head in one smooth motion. He stood before her, shirtless, perfect, and obviously aware of the affect he had on her.

The sweatshirt fell from her hands to the floor.
Holy carp, he’s beautiful.
“Um, yes, yes, that looks far more comfortable.” She swallowed.

“I could get more comfortable you know,” He slipped off his shoes and kicked them towards the kitchen. “You just tell me when I’m comfortable enough for you.”

“Hey, you know, get as comfortable as…I mean it’s your house…you can wear…or not wear…whatever you want to…or not.”
Who is saying these things?

Quinn leaned against the doorframe, hands on his waist, “Miss Izzy?”

“Um, yes?” She couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

“It’s not polite to stare. A good Southern girl like you should know that.”

Good grief, am I actually salivating?
She cleared her throat and set the sweatshirt on the sectional sofa and took a step closer. “A good Southern girl knows to appreciate a work of art.” She didn’t recognize the throaty tone coming out of her mouth.

A slow smile crossed Quinn’s face. “So you’re appreciating me?”

His expression called to something deep within her. “Yes. I mean…” she inhaled and tried to regulate her breathing as she took another step.
Come on, Izzy!