Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“I want to finish it, but I can’t,” she says mournfully after putting away three and a half sushi rolls. “Do you want it?”
“Hell yeah.” I’ve already scarfed five rolls of my own and some soup, but I’ll finish hers, too.
“That was amazing, thank you,” she says as I’m signing the bill for our check. “I’m not sure I can eat more than a couple Sweet Tarts right now.”
“Don’t worry, you’re gonna work up an appetite.” I grin at her as I put my wallet away.
She arches her brows. “At the movies?”
“Who said we’re going to the movies?” I stand up from the table and offer her my hand.
She takes my hand, her smile giving me a high that reminds me of how it feels to score a goal in a game. The first part of this date couldn’t have gone better. I think the rest is going to be every bit as good, if not better.
Mostly because at the next place we’re going, I’ll have lots of excuses to touch her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cam
“Are you serious?” I look from the Mountain Peak Roller Rink neon sign to Rowan and then back at him again. “We’re going roller skating?”
I’m grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. Tess and I used to love roller skating as kids, but I haven’t done it in well over a decade.
“We’re going roller skating,” Rowan confirms. “My teammate Beck’s buddy owns this place and it’s so awesome. It has an old-school jukebox.”
“Oh my God, let’s go!”
I barely let him get the car into park before I open my car door and get out, doing a little hop of excitement. I spend my days being a responsible mom and dutiful paralegal. I can’t remember the last time I did something like this, just for fun.
The parking lot has around two dozen cars in it, and when we get inside, I see that attendance is light.
“How is this place not packed?” I ask Rowan.
“The new owner just renovated it and reopened it recently. He hasn’t done any advertising for it yet.”
We walk up to a ticket window, where he buys us admission tickets and skate rentals. Once we walk inside the rink area, my jaw drops as I look around in wonder.
There’s a very thin layer of blue carpet on the floor and the concrete walls are covered in murals of mountains, forests and cartoony bigfoots and yetis. Restored vintage arcade games and pinball machines are lined up along one wall, and there are even three Skee-Ball lanes.
The wood-planked skating rink area has a huge disco ball spinning above it, ’90s music playing as people skate in circles. There’s a skate-up snack bar connected to the rink by an off-ramp.
We change from our shoes into skates quickly and Rowan stows our shoes and my bag in a locker. I throw my arms out to my sides, wobbling as I start to skate.
Not surprisingly, Rowan has no problem skating. He spins and puts his hands on my waist as we reach the skating area, skating backward and helping me stay upright.
“This was such a great idea,” I say as the song “Genie in a Bottle” by Christina Aguilera starts playing.
“I’m glad you like it.” His smile is sexy and playful. “You want me to let go?”
On skates, he’s around six and a half feet of muscular man. We’re close enough that I can smell his leather-and-pine scent again, and my heart is racing with happiness and excitement.
“No, don’t let go. Your backward skating skills are pretty impressive.”
“We can do the Dirty Dancing lift if you want,” he offers. “I’ve done it with teammates.”
I laugh at the mental image. “Really?”
“Yep. I tried it with Sal and he slammed into me like a fucking bull in a bullfight. It was ugly. But we used to have this lightweight guy on our team, Chris Young, and he was great at it. We played the song and everything and I’d lift him up. There’s video of it floating around on the internet.”
“I’ll have to look that up. It sounds fun, but there’s no way I could jump in these skates.”
His gaze is warm on me. “You wouldn’t have to jump. I could just lift you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I did some figure skating when I was a kid. I’d maxed out on all the hockey practices I could get and I wanted to skate more, so I did that.”
I laugh, finding that amusing and attractive at the same time. “When do I get to see some pictures of you in figure skating outfits?”
He shakes his head, looking a little sheepish. “Never. They’re all locked up tight in a vault.”
A slow song by Boyz II Men comes on and Rowan lets go of one of my hands and turns so we can skate hand in hand. It’s a lot like slow dancing at a middle school dance, and I have to keep myself from giving him the heart-eyed look that would give away just how giddy I’m feeling.