Page 52 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

“Would you rather them see me kissing you on the lips, or would you rather them see me kissing you on thelips?" I drawl and look down. She blushes.

"Really?”

“What? I'm just saying. I know plenty of places where we can make both happen."

"Right now, I’m here because you said you were going to give me a skating lesson. Not for anything else. If you think that I'm just going to be your little sex slave, then you're totally mistaken."

"Erica, I know we are not necessarily on the same page here. And I know they say men are from Mars, women are from Venus. But in order to be my sex slave, we actually would've had to have had sex. And as much as I enjoyed you giving me a blow job and as much as I enjoyed going down on you, we haven't actually gone that far yet."

"I know we haven’t," she says.

"But no rush," I say. "I just want to say that in order for you to be my sex slave, that actually would've had to have happened first. I like to be precise."

"I know. You like to be a bit of a jackass," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Well, are you ready for this jackass to teach you how to skate?"

"I guess so. I mean, if you really, really feel like you have to."

"I do," I say. "I think if there's one thing you should know how to do in life, it’s how to skate.”

“Oh, yeah? You think if the apocalypse comes and aliens grab me, skating is what's going to get me out of there and keep me safe?”

“Exactly,” I say. “You are smarter than you look.”

“Oh my gosh,” she says, going to hit me again. I grab her wrist and pull her towards me. “I kind of like you coming to watch my games and cheering me on.”

“I wasn’t cheering for you. I was cheering for Elliott,” she says.

I roll my eyes and burst out laughing. “I can go and get him if you want. He’s still in the locker room, and I’m sure?—"

"No, no, no. Okay. I take it back. I don't want to. I really, really don't want to. Don't get him."

I burst out laughing.

"He wasn’t that bad."

"He was worse," she says. "Now come on, teach me how to skate, and let’s see how it goes."

Three hours later, we’re leaving the rink. Erica’s cheeks are rosy, and she’s beaming.

"I’m quite good, don’t you think?"

"You’re great. You're a natural. Maybe if you were younger, you could have been a figure skater."

"What do you mean, maybe if I was younger? There are older figure skaters than me."

"Yeah, but they've been doing it for a while.”

“I guess. But it was fun."

She pauses and gives me a meaningful look.

"Thank you. That was actually kind of romantic and sweet. And don’t go getting any ideas."

"Erica, I’m not a romantic. And I’m not very sweet, as you know. However, I did feel like I was the best person to teach you how to skate."

"Well, thank you. Where are you off to?"