Fresh Ice (27 page)

“What’s that?”

“There are pictures of you all over the place. It’s so cool! You look so young!”

“Oh thank you. Yes, now that I’m ancient, it’s nice to see what I looked like in the Dark Ages.” She turned to Collier. “You never took down the pictures?”

Collier shrugged again. “I’m gone all the time. Clearly my business partners don’t give two craps about much besides the concession stand and the rental skates.”

“Well, whatever. Quinn, do you have your skates in the car?”

“Of course, but you know they’re hockey skates.”

Izzy waved her hand. “Go get them and let’s practice!”

Quinn studied the ice. “How about a pass or two with the Zamboni first?”

“No way Studs McHockey.” Collier held up his hand. “First show me what you’ve got. Then we’ll decide if you deserve fresh ice or not.”

Letting Izzy drive to and from the rink today, Quinn decided, was pretty brilliant given how sore he was.
What is wrong with me? I am an athlete. I am used to training hard every day. But two hours a day on the ice the last two months, and I’m a corpse. A very stiff, very sore corpse.

“Quinn, this is the best. I mean it! The best!”

It didn’t help that with every practice in the past two months, Quinn felt himself falling apart while Izzy thrived. Her energy seemed boundless.
Meanwhile, everything on me hurts. Everything.

“I could kiss you right here but I’m driving.”

I think even my lips hurt. How is that possible?

“Hey are you hungry? I’m always hungry when I’m training. I remember Coach used to have to hide his lunch in a locked drawer right before big competitions because I would just sneak in there and eat it.”

Does she always talk this fast?
He focused on Izzy’s endless stream of commentary and return to the last thing he recalled her saying. “I could eat.”

“Okay, what are you hungry for?”

Quinn stretched his arms over his head and groaned. “Nothing I have to lift.”

Izzy pulled her car to a stop in front of Silver Screen. “You’re sore, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I thought when we added a practice this week it would be okay.”

The extra practice was because Serena went on vacation to St. Maarten and with her out of the country I had some extra free time.
Quinn grimaced.
Be a man! The ninety-nine pound waitress is bouncing around like she’s ready for anything. No wonder Collier makes fun of me.

“I’m a little stiff. You know, I’m used to getting smacked into the boards by a guy my size, getting up and moving again. I’m not used to being upright and graceful the whole time.” He hoped his smile didn’t look at painful as it felt. Quinn was very thankful Collier was out of town for a week, and couldn’t revel in this new sign of weakness.

“Look, as a thank you, I’m going to go in and get us some really good coffee. Cat is brewing up something special today.”

“How do you know?”

“Her hair was purple, and she was reciting something that sounded like Shakespeare. Then we’ll go back to your place. You can take a long hot shower while I return some emails and then I’ll rub you down with a very strong ointment.”

Getting a rub down from Izzy sounds nice.

She hopped out of the car, her boundless energy surprising him again. Quinn eased the seat back and closed his eyes.
I’ll just rest while she’s getting the coffee. I’ll picture myself skating without feeling all sorts of old man pain. It’ll be like practice.

A moment later Izzy said, “We’re here. We’re at your place.”

Quinn opened his eyes. “What?”

“We’re at your place. You fell asleep.”

Quinn wrinkled his nose. “What on earth is that vile smell?”

Izzy held up a jar. “It’s the ointment. I can’t believe Col still had some.”

“
Clearly, he’s a witch doctor, to have something that foul lying around. You’re not rubbing that on my skin, are you?”

She got out of the car, laughing out loud. “Only if you want to feel better. Trust me. I used this all the time when I was competing.”

“Right, but we aren’t competing. And I’m fine. Argh!” Quinn tried to straighten up, and failed. “Okay, we’ll take the stairs to the first floor and get the elevator there.”

“You’re going to do stairs?”

“I’m not walking past my doorman looking like this and smelling like that.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

It took them several minutes to get to the first floor. “I have a whole new respect for figure skaters,” Quinn leaned against the elevator wall. “How is it you’re not sore?”

Izzy grinned. “Well, I’m a little younger than you are.” She giggled.

“Oh thanks for that.”

“Plus, I’m not the one doing the lifting. How many times did we do that throw triple loop? Ten, twelve?”

“Ten or twelve hundred.”

“So you’re hoisting me and tossing me every time. All I have to do is fly.”

“Yeah, sure, but you have to land.”

The elevator doors opened. “Sure, and my knees hurt a bit.”

“A bit? Hey, all I want to do is die.”

Quinn started to collapse on the couch, but Izzy shoved him toward the bedroom. “Hot shower. Long hot shower. I’ll make dinner.”

“I think I have a bottle of ketchup and some mushrooms in the fridge.”

Izzy glanced in the refrigerator. “Okay, I’ll be calling for dinner. Chinese?”

He realized he was very hungry. “One of everything from Feng’s.”

“I’m game if you are.” Izzy pulled a menu off the corkboard on the wall and started dialing. “You, shower.”

She’s worse than a trainer.
Quinn limped into the bathroom. He studied himself in the mirror.
And damn if it isn’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

***

Izzy ordered a ridiculous amount of food from Feng’s.
At least the leftovers will make his fridge look like someone actually lives in this place.

She kicked off her shoes and settled on the couch. Staring out the patio window, she realized she missed Coach. Collier was good at assessing their progress, but she missed Coach.

I wonder what he’d think of Quinn.

She pulled out her phone and without thinking, she dialed Collier’s number.

“Hello?” Collier’s voice was warm, fuzzy.

“Col, did I wake you?”

“Don’t worry. What’s up?”

I’m an idiot. Waking up Collier isn’t going to bring Coach back.

“Izzy? Are you there? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just thinking about Coach, you know?” She closed her eyes trying to hold back the sudden spring of tears. “We had a long practice today, and I started thinking about him.”

Collier was quiet for a beat. “I know. I miss him, too. Sometimes I’ll do something and I’ll hear him yelling, ‘For the love of all that’s holy! Stop and do it the right way!’ I used to hate it, now I wish I could hear him yell one more time.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, and then I dialed you.”

“Hey, I’m always happy to take a call from you.”

Izzy glanced at her watch. “Geez, it’s late. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Your voice is a breath of fresh air. I can’t believe the guys convinced me to play a Renaissance restaurant in New York. Worse than playing in bars, if you can believe it. But what about you. Are you really okay? How was practice?”

Izzy swallowed back the tremor in her voice. “I’m great, and practice was fine. Just a little nostalgic tonight, you know?”

“Hey, I’ll be back in Nashville in a few days. We’ll go down to Second Chance’s and get nostalgic all over the place. It’ll be a mess.”

Izzy smiled. “I can’t wait.”

“Just the two of us, though, right?”

In the short weeks since they’d been working together, it was clear Collier and Quinn saw each other as competition. Most of the off color banter fired between the two men either annoyed Izzy or made her laugh
.
Certain that Collier was just trying to get a rise out of her, she gave their bickering little thought. Her brain was too busy sorting out her feelings for Quinn.

“Izzy?”

“Sure Col. Just the two of us.”

“Won’t Puckman be jealous?”

“No, because he won’t be in town. And there’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“Boy do you know how to crush a guy’s feelings in the middle of the night.”

Izzy managed a weak smile. “Well, I try. Go back to sleep.”

“You’re not letting him work you too hard, right?”

“I’m the one working Quinn too hard.”

“Don’t know that I love the sound of that.”

With a bittersweet smile, she ended the phone call. Memories of Coach rushed back. Unable to stop the spill of tears, she opened the patio door and stepped into the brisk Nashville air.
Suddenly everything hurts. My legs, my head, and my heart, the spot where Coach should be it, all hurts.

***

Compared to the hot steam in the bathroom, the apartment was cold. Q
uinn shivered as he padded out to the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat shorts. “Hey, why is it freezing…Izzy?”

She stood out on the balcony, so still, he wasn’t certain she heard him. As he approached, he saw her wipe her eyes.

She’s crying?
He reached a hand to her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” She turned to face him, the traces of her tears visible. “I’m great.” She attempted a smile, and failed, her face broke from the strain, and she wept.

“Hey, hey, come here, you’re freezing.” He wrapped her in the warmest embrace he could muster, pulled her back into the apartment, and closed the door. “Come on. Let me get you warmed up.” He turned on the fireplace and draped a quilt around her.

The door buzzer sounded.

“That’ll be the food.” She couldn’t hide the quaver in her voice.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get the door. I’ll be back in one second.” He grabbed his wallet off the table and handed his doorman a wad of bills.
I’m not counting out change when Izzy’s crying on my couch.
He set the two huge bags of food on the table.

“Okay, so we’ll be doing a little food therapy later.” He sat down and snuggled her into the crook of his arm. “So what’s up? You were all chatter and smiles before I took a shower. If this is what good personal hygiene does, count me out.”

She sniffled, but laughed softly. “I’m sorry. It’s so stupid.”

“What’s so stupid?”

“I…I called Collier.”

Quinn frowned.
Not great for the ego.
“I thought he was in New York.”

“He is. But I suddenly missed Coach so much and Col’s my closest link.”

“I get it. I think.”

Izzy wiped her eyes. “Coach would like you a lot.”

“Which is funny, because his son doesn’t.”

“No, but Coach would. He liked male skaters to be tall, and strong.”

“Oh. So this has nothing to do with my winning personality.”

Izzy’s smile was sincere. “He’d love how tall you are. He’d hate that you skate on hockey skates, but I think he’d get over it because you’re careful not to drop me or throw me too hard. He was big into making sure I didn’t get hurt.”

“So why the tears?”

Izzy cuddled closer under his arm. “I’ve been so happy, not just with the skating, but working on this whole thing. I feel like I have a purpose.” She paused and sniffled. “I wish Coach was here to see it. He’d be proud, like a father.”

Her voice was so thin, so lost, Quinn ached to wrap her in his arms and shield her from the world. “You haven’t talked about your parents since you went to see them.”

“They aren’t family, if they ever were. Coach was my family. I left him, just like I left everyone. I ran away. Now I can’t talk to
him. And I really wish I could right now.”

Quinn cradled her. “Anything I can help with?” Something clicked in Quinn’s brain. “Are you feeling, you know, overwhelmed? I know you’re doing a lot on the administrative end of things, is it too much?”

“No-not-not at all.” The catch in her voice and renewed tears belied her words.

“You know, you took on a ton of stuff with this. Plus you’re still working, and you had to change your shift. It’s a lot of adjustments.”

“No…Quinn…I used to do stuff like this all the time, you know, when Jenna was little. I volunteered at her school.”

Her tears were warm on his bare shoulder. “So what is it?” He kissed the top of her head, again at a loss for words.

“It’s so stupid…” she huddled tighter and sobbed in earnest.

What do I do?
A flash of panic shuddered through Quinn. “Whatever it is, whatever’s bothering you, I promise I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“My ankles hurt so much!”