Alex pulls his wallet out of his jeans pocket and opens it up. "Two adults and three kids, and we're all going to need skates."
We tell the boy our skate sizes and he about trips over his feet in his haste to get everything as quickly as possible. He rings the total cost and Alex pays him, winking at me as the boys grab their skates and run off to the benches in the lobby area to put them on.
Taking his change, Alex turns away but the boy behind the counter says in a timid voice, "Um … Mr. Crossman? Could I … ?"
His voice trails off as his eyes hit the floor. Alex is looking at him with his head cocked to the side curiously. "What's up, bud?"
The kid's eyes pop back up over the reassurance in Alex's voice and widen even farther. "Could I get your autograph?"
"Sure thing," he says as he steps back up to the counter and rewards the boy with a smile. Pushing paper and a pen to Alex, the kid is practically vibrating with energy as he waits for the autograph. When Alex pushes it back to him, the kid reverently holds it up and says, "Thanks, Mr. Crossman. You're a lot nicer than a lot of people make you out to be."
I watch as something flickers across Alex's face and I think it may be guilt … maybe even a bit of pain. His smile is a little dimmer when he nods at the kid, taking my hand and leading me over to the benches to put our skates on.
Squeezing his hand, I ask, "Did that bother you?"
"Nah," Alex says, releasing my hand and sitting down on a bench. I plop down beside him. "Kid has it backward. I'm actually a lot meaner than what he just saw."
My heart tears open a little over the bitterness in Alex's voice. "Don't do that."
He turns to look at me in surprise. "Do what?"
"Don't fall into the mold that people put you in. You are only what you want to be. If you want to be nice, be nice. If you want to be mean, be mean. But don't do it because anyone expects it of you. Do it for yourself."
Alex stares at me a long moment, then his hand comes up to grip me behind my neck. He squeezes gently but with enough effort to get my attention. "You're seeing a softer side to me, Sutton, and I like that you like it. But don't make the mistake of ever putting a coat of sugar on me. I'm a whole lot mean too. You've seen it once … I know you'll see it again. I'm built that way."
Reaching up, my fingers curl around his wrist as he holds me by the neck. I don't push him away but rather squeeze him to hold him in place. "Tell me, Alex, what exactly is this warning supposed to do? Scare me away? Provide me adequate notice so you don't have guilt when you hurt me at some point?"
Alex's hands quickly migrate to grab my face and he pulls me in before I can even protest. He crushes his lips against mine, giving me a hard, quick kiss before pulling back. Resting his forehead against mine, he says, "I don't want to scare you away. I'd come running after you. So yeah, I'm giving you warning so I can be the first to say 'I told you so' and so you know I'm a man who lives up to the expectations placed upon him."
"That's a problem, then," I tell him softly as I squeeze harder onto his wrist so he understands the urgency of what I'm saying. "Because I don't have that expectation of you. In fact, I expect you to rise above it and prove yourself wrong."
Giving me a quick kiss on the forehead, Alex releases me and turns to start pulling on his skates. "You're like the good little angel that sits on my shoulder telling me positive things and acting as my conscience."
"And that's a bad thing?" I ask with a laugh as I kick my tennis shoes off.
"Well, the corrupting little devil is usually dressed in a really sexy outfit and that is so much nicer to imagine."
Snorting, I pull on the first skate and start to tighten the laces. "I can be corrupting too, you know. I have layers."
"I look forward to peeling them away, then," Alex says as he leans over, placing his lips near my ears. Those words come out in a low growl and cause goose bumps to break out all over my skin.
Whether I'm any good at ice-skating or not is irrelevant. I already plan to be clumsy and try to fall as many times as possible just so Alex can put his hands all over me.
***
Alex pulls into my driveway and kills the engine. It was a quiet ride from my parents' house where we had just dropped off Glenn and his friends.
Without a word he gets out of the driver's seat and walks around to my side. My heart is thrumming wildly within my chest because I'm thinking Alex is going to make good on his threat to put his hands all over me some more. He certainly did so at the ice rink, but his touches were gentle and chaste, suitable for public display. It may have been just holding my elbow to guide me around the ice, or swiftly grabbing me around my waist if I started to fall. Once, he even took both my hands in his and skated backward, leading me around the ice. I made the mistake of getting sucked into his cobalt gaze and lost my footing more than once, so he needed to wrap his arms around me to prevent a spill to the ice.