I honestly can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. I love playing hockey and spending time with my family, but this – goofing around on the ice with Kitten – this is my new happy place. I feel like a tool just thinking that, but I don’t care. It’s true.
I’ve lost track of time, but I think we’ve been here for over an hour. Kitten is better than I thought she’d be, especially after her story about the rollerblades. We started with her standing still and me pulling her around. But she quickly graduated to skating under her own power, while holding my hand.
I’m trying to not show off too much. I’m enjoying the anonymity of being here, skating around like two normal people on a date. I’ve stopped trying to figure out what date number this is. Our track record is a little weird, but I know it feels like I’ve known Kitten forever. She’s so easy to be with. Easy to talk to. Easy to touch and hold hands with. She just feels so right.
We’ve been talking while we skate. Mostly sharing stories from growing up. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t on the ice. My dad took me skating from the time I could walk. I was playing hockey at that young age when the kids just try to not fall the entire time, and you call it a game.
Kitten talked about going with one of her friends to their brothers’ games when she was younger, but admitted to spending most of their time at the concessions – eating candy and flirting with the older boys. Even being a full-grown adult, I find myself jealous of the teenage shits that got my Kitten’s attention all those years ago.
We’re skating side by side, when Kitten sighs and pulls out her phone. I don’t mean to spy, but I can see a whole list of notifications on her screen.
She groans. “My stupid brother has been texting and calling me nonstop. He must’ve gone online and seen the videos at some point in the past hour.” Before she can put her phone away it lights up with another call from Big Brother.
I grin. “This might be fun.”
“Huh?”
“Hang up on that and use FaceTime to call him back,” I tell her.
“Seriously? He’s going to freak if he sees you.”
“I know. It’ll be hilarious. He’ll probably get all flustered.” Kitten laughs and I nudge her. “Don’t tell him I’m here. I’ll wait out of view, then come around behind you to surprise him.”
“You’re right, this will be fun. You’re sure you’re okay with opening this door? There’ll be no going back.”
“I’m sure.”
Kitten holds the phone up so it’s only framing her then calls her brother. The call rings once before it’s answered.
She jumps right into it and I have to swallow down a laugh. “Jesus fucking Christ, Alex! You know if there’s an actual emergency you’re supposed to dial 9-1-1, not blow up your sister’s phone.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” a deep voice answers her. I’m standing off to the side, so I can’t see the man on the screen.
“I figured I’d call you back like this, so I’d have some proof of life. Based on the number of missed calls and texts I have, I’m guessing you’ve been kidnapped and need some ransom money.”
“You want to talk about body snatchers! Why not tell me how in the hell I woke up in the Twilight Zone this morning to a video of my sister making out with Jackson fucking Wilder! How long has this been going on?”
“Hmmm?” Kitten pretends to think. “Jackson Wilder, isn’t he a baseball player or something?”
I hold in another laugh that turns into a snort. Kitten’s eyes flick to mine, full of amusement.
“Seriously, Kay. What’s going on? Are you dating him? How long have you been going out? And why didn’t you tell me? You know how much I love him!”
“I don’t think I knew that. I mean, I know you babble on about hockey this, and Sleet that, all the time. But I didn’t know you were a fan of Jackson.”
“Ugh, goddamnit, woman! Don’t you ever listen to me?”
“I try not to.”
I can hear a heavy sigh on the other end of the call, and I imagine Alex is trying to rein in his annoyance. Kitten is being pretty sassy. If our positions were reversed, I’d be exasperated too.
“Katelyn, dearest sister, please tell me, do you really know Jackson Wilder?”
“Yes.” Kitten grins.
“Holy shit! Wow! Okay. Okay, can I meet him?”
“I don’t know…” She looks over to me. “What do you think?”
Taking my cue, I glide over so my body is partially behind Kitten, with my head and chest clearly visible over her shoulders. She has to angle the camera up a bit to get us both on the screen but there’s no mistaking that we’re together in person.
“Hey, man,” I direct my greeting to the guy on the phone screen, who is clearly Kitten’s brother. He’s mid-thirties, same shiny brown hair, same hazel eyes. Only he looks to be in a state of shock at the moment. His eyes are unblinking, and his mouth is hanging open. Bending to Kitten’s ear, I whisper loud enough for the phone to pick it up. “Did we break him?”
Kitten bursts into laughter and the phone shakes in her hands. “Alex, wipe the drool off your chin, and say hello to Jackson.”
“Oh, wow. Uh, hey. I mean, hi. Nice to meet you.” Alex is stuttering out the words, and even though I feel a little bit bad, it’s pretty funny.
“I hear you’re a bit of a Sleet fan.”
Alex shakes his head, as if to clear it. “Aw, man, this is… You’re the best! I watch every single game. The way you move the puck down the ice… it’s gold, man. Pure gold.”
Kitten is giggling. “Geez Alex, way to play it cool.”
Alex is looking at Kitten now. “There’s no being cool when it’s Jackson fucking Wilder. You don’t even appreciate how awesome he is, do you?”
“Oh, I think I do…” Innuendo in her voice.
Alex makes a face.
I can’t help myself. Grinning, I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her tight against my side.
“So…” Alex drags out the word. “Where are you guys?”
Kitten shakes her head. “No. No way in hell am I telling you. You’re not crashing our date. This isn’t high school.”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “He crashed your dates?”
Kitten looks up at me. “He always had one problem or another with the guys that wanted to date me. He would get Dad to tell him where I was going, and then he would always show up and ruin everything.” Looking back at the phone she says, “Never again, dipshit.”
Alex laughs. “Those were the good days.”
“I think I like you, Alex.” I completely approve of his tactics. “I want to hear more about these dates you ruined.”
He beams. “Dude, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Okay, this has been fun and all, but I’m going to hang up now.” As Kitten says this a pair of kids come flying past us, so close that I have to pull Kitten back a foot to keep her from getting crashed into.
Alex must have gotten a view of the background when the phone shifted because his next words come out as a shout. “Ohmygod, are you seriously ice-skating with Jackson Wilder?!”
I can feel Kitten rolling her eyes at her brother’s excitement. But before she can say anything, Alex continues. “Oh shit, Jackson, my man. I have a huge favor to ask you!”
“What?” Kitten sounds appalled. “You are not asking Jackson for favors. Bye, Alex.”
Before she can hang up, I snatch the phone out of her hands and skate backward.
“Jackson! Give that back. Don’t fall for his nonsense.”
“Kitten, you stay right there,” I point at her feet. “I just need a moment. And don’t try to chase me down. If you start to fall, I’ll have to drop this phone to catch you. Then some kid will trip over it and break their arm. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?”
“Oh, for the love of-” is all I hear her say before I skate off to the other side of the rink to talk to Alex.
