Heat it Up: Off the Ice - Book One (11 page)

BOOK: Heat it Up: Off the Ice - Book One
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Joni laughs, the sound slightly distorted because we’re running. “If you’re going to break my heart, can you please explain why you don’t want to be involved with anyone?”

I consider picking up the pace so neither of us is able to talk, but the least I can do is tell him the modified version of the truth. Besides, who else is going to translate for me when it comes to Muumu?

“I had a boyfriend last year who I loved. We’d been together for several years but he didn’t love me like I thought he had.” I keep my gaze glued ahead, not daring to turn to see Joni’s reaction. “He was cheating on me.” The word ‘cheating’ cuts through me and I can barely breathe.

How could I have been such an idiot last night? And what is it with me and males who are only capable of cheating? Which just proves, once again, that I’m cursed.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Joni says, “but not all guys cheat.”

I give a spluttered laugh. “My track record proves otherwise.” This time I do pick up the pace.

“What do you mean?”

“My father cheated on my mother. And it turns out Kyle has a wife back home.”

“I don’t think being your fake boyfriend counts as cheating on her.”

I throw him a look, momentarily forgetting he doesn’t know what happened between Kyle and me last night.

“Granted the kiss didn’t look good,” he quickly adds, “but it was all acting, right?”

“Yeah, it was acting,” I mumble.

“Good. And you’re not cursed. You just need to find the right guy.”

“I guess you’ve never had your heart broken.” If he had, he wouldn’t be so quick to judge.

“That would be where you’re wrong. I was in love with a girl. Like you and your ex-boyfriend, we dated for years. I was getting ready to propose to her, when she up and left me for the lead singer of a rock band. I won’t say that it didn’t hurt at first, but then I realized it was what it was, and I can’t waste my life because one girl hurt me.”

We run down the path that leads to the lake. A man jogs past us in the opposite direction, but other than that, we’re alone.

“And you can’t let your ex-boyfriend and father cause you to waste your life,” Joni adds. “You need to take a chance. You might be surprised.”

He’s got that right. Except the surprises haven’t been happy ones. I shove away the image of the dog tag with Kyle’s wife’s name on it, and race Joni to the fork in the path. With his long legs, it doesn’t take much for him to overtake me.

He stops at the junction. “Which way?”

Fortunately, unlike with life, it doesn’t matter which way we go, it ends up the same place. “This way.” I pick the path on the right, and continue along the packed dirt. With just the two us running, it’s like we’ve disappeared from civilization. All that’s left is the untamed wilderness.

Running at a slower pace, and allowing my breath to catch up with me after sprinting to the fork in the path, I ask, “Do you run every day?”

“You can say that. I play football. And when I’m not playing it, I’m training for it. So, yes, I run every day.”

“Football, huh? You don’t look like a football player.” And then I get it. “Oh, you mean football as in soccer. So how come not hockey?”

He chuckles. “I’m not much of a hockey fan. I prefer running over skating.”

“My best friend would love you. She hates hockey. She plays with our university women’s soccer team. She’s brilliant at it.” Too bad Claire isn’t here. She and Joni would make a cute couple. A voice in the back of my head begins to point out that he and I would make one too. I flick it away before it can finish the thought.

We continue running. Joni does most of the talking, because as fit as I am, he has longer legs and doesn’t have to run as hard to keep up with me.

“What are you studying at university?” he asks. I explain my degree. “Do you know how to…what’s it called when you wrap tape around the ankles so you reduce the risk of hurting your ankle while playing football?”

“Taping.”

“Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“The wife of one of my teammates does that for us, but she’s pregnant and could use some help. Would you be interested? It’s a volunteer position, so we couldn’t pay you.”

“No, that would be great. The more practice I get the better.” Plus, it would look good on my resume.

“Good. I’ll drop off the summer schedule later. We meet two evenings a week.”

And since I’m no longer hanging out with Kyle, this will work for me.

We’re silent for several minutes, focused on running as we finish the loop around the lake, before Joni says, “The day I showed up for our date wasn’t the first I’d seen you.”

I glance at him. “It wasn’t?”

He shakes his head and returns his attention to the path. I do the same so I don’t trip over a rut. “I saw you in The Coffee Bar a few days before that. But I’m not like those guys in the movies who see a beautiful girl and talk to her.”

I snort. Right now beautiful isn’t the adjective I would use to describe me. I’m sweaty, have zero makeup on, and my hair was shoved into a ponytail before I left. A few stray pieces have wiggled their way loose and are sticking to the side of my face.

Joni either doesn’t hear the snort or chooses to ignore it. “I was worried I’d sound…I’d sound cheesy if I said anything. I didn’t realize you were the same person my grandmother was trying to convince me to go out with.”

I laugh. “Convince?”

“Let’s just say you weren’t the only one who was resistant to the idea of being set up. I figured if you were so great, why didn’t you have a boyfriend?”

The same thought I’d had about him.

“I saw you a few other times at The Coffee Bar. You must like it there.”

“Muumu lives in the stone age. It’s the only nearby place that has free WiFi.”

“You can come to my apartment anytime and use mine. I live near you, and I wouldn’t mind practicing my English.”

I almost trip at the comment. There’s nothing wrong with his English. “Okay.”

A smile brighter than the sun appears on his face. God, am I making a mistake going to his apartment? But then he already knows where I stand on dating, so maybe it means nothing beyond me getting to use his WiFi.

As we run back home, Joni points out his building. I arrange to meet him there in an hour and race home to shower. If I’m lucky, Claire will be on the Internet at the same time as me.

Muumu isn’t home when I enter the apartment. She’s probably upstairs, scheming with Joni’s grandmother. I hurry to get ready, wanting to leave before she comes home and I have to tell her where I’m going.

I search through my purse for my phone, so I can call Joni and check that it’s okay to go over early. The phone isn’t there. I hunt around my bed. Nothing. I had it last night when I went out. I check the back pocket of my skirt. Still nothing. Crap. Where the hell did I put it?

I sink onto my bed, but in my dazed stupor, I misgauge the edge and fall to the floor.
Earth to Universe, can you cut me a break here?

I had the phone at the nightclub, but that’s the last I remember seeing it. Maybe it fell out of my pocket when Kyle got into the fight with that drunk loser and I tried to protect him. I didn’t see it on the ground, but his injuries had distracted me. It could have fallen from my pocket without me noticing.

Or I could have lost it at the nightclub.

I can’t do anything until the place opens, so I head to Joni’s apartment, cursing myself the entire way for paying more attention to Kyle than I did to my phone. I can’t even phone him to see if maybe I left it at his place. I have his number.

Programmed.

In.

The.

Freaking.

Phone.

And after what we did last night and after the revelation that he’s no better than Ian and my Dad, I can’t bear the thought of seeing him face-to-face again.

The corners of my mouth flick up at the thought of sending Muumu and Joni over to get it for me. I’m sure she would give Kyle an earful if she knew the truth. Sure, he wouldn’t understand what she said, but her tone would say it all.

I chuckle as I imagine Kyle’s expression if that happened. He’s not one of those jerks who would tell her where to go. He would just listen to her, and every now and then mention an interesting physics fact.

My heart oddly aches at how much I already miss his physics explanations, his thrilled grin whenever I ask him questions about the topic, and our True and False game.

Joni’s apartment is similar to my grandmother’s, except the furniture spells bachelor pad. Framed superhero movie posters hang on the opposite wall to the large screen TV, and echo the theme of a number of books on the shelves next to it.

I set my laptop on the dinner table. While I wait for it to start, I pick up the open sketchpad. When Joni doesn’t protest, I leaf through it. Each page either has a comic-style sketch on it or an actual comic strip. They aren’t all the same. Some are of your typical male superheroes, along with their big-breasted heroines. Others are PG friendly, with adorable wide-eyed animals. The male lust-filled comics are written in Finnish, the animal ones in English.

I read a few of the animal ones and laugh. “These are really good.”

Joni blushes. I’ve never seen him do that before and it’s cute. “Thanks,” he says.

“Do you do this professionally?”

“I would like to, but it’s hard to break in to.”

I flip another page. “So what’s your daytime job?” Judging from the furniture, it’s not cleaning toilets like me.

“I work in advertising, in the graphic department. I love it, but I love that more.” He nods at the sketchbook in my hand. “I’m lucky my two loves are related.” He is lucky. I love photography, but it’s tough to make a living in it—just like it is with his comics.

I turn the page and my face heats at the image on the paper. “That’s me?” I squeak. The low cut, black bodysuit that lookalike me is wearing reveals a cleavage and big breasts that I don’t have in real life. My blond hair flows down my back, contrasting against the stark color of my outfit. Joni has drawn it so there’s a slight breeze blowing through my hair, which is glowing in the light. I’m a combination of innocent and kickass, especially with the whip to match my ensemble.

Joni coughs and shifts on his feet, clearly unsure how I’ll respond to this sexy version of me. “I drew it when I first saw you in The Coffee Bar. Sorry. I never expected you to see it.”

I giggle, more from nervousness than amusement. I’m not sure what to make of this. “It’s too bad I had to send my outfit to the dry cleaner, or else I could have worn it when we ran.”

Joni pulls out the seat next to me and sits, his gaze fixed on the drawing. “I saw you that day and knew I had to draw you. The sun was shining through the window at just the right angle and I couldn’t resist. I hope you don’t think I’m creepy now.”

“No, it’s great. Do I have any special powers?” If comic me has breasts guys fantasize about, then I can at least have special powers, too. It’s only fair.

His gaze moves from the picture and I have a feeling he’s not seeing me in front of him, the girl in shorts and a tank top. He’s seeing the fantasy version of me.

“What kind of powers would you like?” he asks softly, mesmerized by my mouth.

I run the tip of my tongue over my lower lip, relieving its sudden dryness. It’s not until he leans toward me that I realize maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t the smartest move on my part. Does he think I’m trying to seduce him?

I almost bust out laughing. A seductress, I’m not.

Joni keeps moving toward me. I should move or duck out of the way, but I’m frozen in place. Maybe that’s Joni’s special power.

His lips touch mine for the briefest of seconds. He pulls back and his gaze roams over my face.

“I want special powers that let me know when a guy is lying to me,” I whisper. I don’t have to elaborate. I can tell Joni knows what I’m talking about.

Sighing, he stands and nods at my laptop. “I’ll let you get to work.”

“Thanks.” An odd sort of ache spreads through me as he walks away. Would it be so bad to give him a chance? What’s the worst that can happen—other than he cheats on me and becomes another notch in my curse belt? Maybe something great could happen between us, and I’d never have to face Minneapolis and my painful memories again. That would be a definite perk.

Except, his kiss didn’t incite the same reaction I got when I kissed Kyle. Joni’s kiss was nice. Sweet. But shouldn’t I at least feel something more?

But then, look where something more always gets me.

I email Claire and fill her in on everything, even though she’s thousands of miles away. While it would be better to talk to her face-to-face, she’s the only one I can really talk to. Well, almost talk to. I can’t quite bring myself to tell her everything that happened last night. I’m not sure how she’ll take the news if I tell her the full truth.

Instead, I tell her how Joni kissed me and how Kyle has a wife back home. I don’t tell Claire that he cheated on his wife, but even on email Claire is brilliant at reading between the lines.

‘Would it really be so bad to give Joni a chance?’ she types. ‘Just for fun. It’s not like you’re staying there permanently. You deserve to have fun.’
After what Ian put you through
is the part she doesn’t type. She doesn’t need to. The words hang there, a ghost from my romantic past. I can almost imagine her arms around me, hugging me, like she did all the time after I found out the truth about Ian. And that makes me miss her more than I thought would be possible.

Thirty minutes later, I’m finished with the Internet. Joni offers to walk with me back to Muumu’s.

“It’s okay. I need to check on my grandmother,” he says after I tell him it’s not necessary. “I’m all she has, other than her friends who are the same age as her. My parents and sister live too far away. And my mother was an only child.”

Since I don’t mind him walking with me, even though an awkwardness now exists between us after the kiss, I tell him it’s okay. I’d love to have the company.

We walk back to our grandmothers’ building, chatting about Joni’s comics and my frustration at not being able to speak the language yet.

BOOK: Heat it Up: Off the Ice - Book One
2.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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