Read Online Home Ice by Katie Kenyhercz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katie Kenyhercz
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At two o’clock on a Monday afternoon, the place was empty. The afterschool crowd hadn’t gotten there yet, and if there were early toddler sessions, those had ended. They had an entire warehouse of trampolines and foam pits to themselves. The part of her that vaguely remembered childhood excitement inwardly squealed and clapped. They sidled up to the front desk and filled out extensive waivers, then got their orange socks with little grippy dots on the bottoms and were ready to jump.
There was a large section gridded off into squares surrounded by orange padding so each jumper could have his own space. She picked one, bent her knees, and gave a test bounce. Addicting. Dylan took the square facing her and tried to match her bounce pattern, but he was heavier and went higher, throwing them off. It was hard getting a handle on the giggles, because he was so
cute
. His floppy hair floated up with every jump, and he couldn’t stop laughing either. Dorky chuckles, and yes, a snort! The world’s best hockey player, Mr. Smooth on the ice, was Mr. Urkel on a trampoline.
“So,” he said, once he caught his breath. “I thought this would be a good place to practice the jump.”
“I thought these stress breaks were to get our minds
off
of that stuff. I haven’t tried it since the last time you watched, and—”
He hopped onto her trampoline square, held on to her for balance, and kissed her mid-sentence. It was so unexpected, she didn’t react for a few seconds. And then she reacted a lot. Yearning swirled in her belly while fireflies fluttered in her chest. Dizziness made her sway, so she held onto his biceps. His really big biceps. Her reservations about him had nothing to do with a lack of chemistry. Honestly, it’d been torture spending so much time with him and not acting on the hundred impulses per hour to see if his lips were as soft as they looked.
They were.
The adorkable guy was gone, replaced with a guy who
knew
what to do with his hands but didn’t take any liberties. His kiss was gentle. Sweet. And when he leaned back, his brows rose in half-apology, half-inquiry.
Was that okay?
“It’s not fair. I should want to slap you. Instead, I want to pinch your cheeks.”
He grinned. “That’s all?”
“I didn’t say that was all.” She went up on tiptoes—not easy on a trampoline—to brush another light kiss against his lips. His arms slid around her waist, and while he kissed her back with definite interest, there was no insistence. What would it be like to drive him so wild he reached the edge of his saintly patience and gave in to passion? That thought was so hot, it scorched her from the inside out. It also made her feel guilty. Dylan was so polite, such a gentleman, and those were
good
things. It just made her curious about his bad side. If he had one.
He bumped his nose against hers. His peppermint breath was warm against her lips. “Now let me see the jump.”
She blinked. What jump?
Oh
. Well, now pride was involved. Even if she fell, it wouldn’t hurt nearly as badly as it did on ice. And showing off had some appeal. “Right, the jump.” It might be tough with Jell-O for legs, but that was his fault. There were bigger trampolines ahead, so she bounded over, shrieking and laughing at the learning curve of how much power to put behind a bounce. With enough space, she practiced getting the height right. Then one rotation. Then two.
“Let me see three!”
“You sound like my coach!” And that was the final push, really. More than anything, the thought of nailing the jump in front of Val spurred her on. She jumped and spun once, twice, three times … and over-rotated. Instead of landing on flat feet, she landed on her heels and fell back into the trampoline-lined wall only to bounce forward onto her hands and knees.
Dylan was at her side so fast he must have flown. He helped her up and held her hands, looking her over. “Are you okay? Did you hurt anything?”
She could
At two o’clock on a Monday afternoon, the place was empty. The afterschool crowd hadn’t gotten there yet, and if there were early toddler sessions, those had ended. They had an entire warehouse of trampolines and foam pits to themselves. The part of her that vaguely remembered childhood excitement inwardly squealed and clapped. They sidled up to the front desk and filled out extensive waivers, then got their orange socks with little grippy dots on the bottoms and were ready to jump.
There was a large section gridded off into squares surrounded by orange padding so each jumper could have his own space. She picked one, bent her knees, and gave a test bounce. Addicting. Dylan took the square facing her and tried to match her bounce pattern, but he was heavier and went higher, throwing them off. It was hard getting a handle on the giggles, because he was so
cute
. His floppy hair floated up with every jump, and he couldn’t stop laughing either. Dorky chuckles, and yes, a snort! The world’s best hockey player, Mr. Smooth on the ice, was Mr. Urkel on a trampoline.
“So,” he said, once he caught his breath. “I thought this would be a good place to practice the jump.”
“I thought these stress breaks were to get our minds
off
of that stuff. I haven’t tried it since the last time you watched, and—”
He hopped onto her trampoline square, held on to her for balance, and kissed her mid-sentence. It was so unexpected, she didn’t react for a few seconds. And then she reacted a lot. Yearning swirled in her belly while fireflies fluttered in her chest. Dizziness made her sway, so she held onto his biceps. His really big biceps. Her reservations about him had nothing to do with a lack of chemistry. Honestly, it’d been torture spending so much time with him and not acting on the hundred impulses per hour to see if his lips were as soft as they looked.
They were.
The adorkable guy was gone, replaced with a guy who
knew
what to do with his hands but didn’t take any liberties. His kiss was gentle. Sweet. And when he leaned back, his brows rose in half-apology, half-inquiry.
Was that okay?
“It’s not fair. I should want to slap you. Instead, I want to pinch your cheeks.”
He grinned. “That’s all?”
“I didn’t say that was all.” She went up on tiptoes—not easy on a trampoline—to brush another light kiss against his lips. His arms slid around her waist, and while he kissed her back with definite interest, there was no insistence. What would it be like to drive him so wild he reached the edge of his saintly patience and gave in to passion? That thought was so hot, it scorched her from the inside out. It also made her feel guilty. Dylan was so polite, such a gentleman, and those were
good
things. It just made her curious about his bad side. If he had one.
He bumped his nose against hers. His peppermint breath was warm against her lips. “Now let me see the jump.”
She blinked. What jump?
Oh
. Well, now pride was involved. Even if she fell, it wouldn’t hurt nearly as badly as it did on ice. And showing off had some appeal. “Right, the jump.” It might be tough with Jell-O for legs, but that was his fault. There were bigger trampolines ahead, so she bounded over, shrieking and laughing at the learning curve of how much power to put behind a bounce. With enough space, she practiced getting the height right. Then one rotation. Then two.
“Let me see three!”
“You sound like my coach!” And that was the final push, really. More than anything, the thought of nailing the jump in front of Val spurred her on. She jumped and spun once, twice, three times … and over-rotated. Instead of landing on flat feet, she landed on her heels and fell back into the trampoline-lined wall only to bounce forward onto her hands and knees.
Dylan was at her side so fast he must have flown. He helped her up and held her hands, looking her over. “Are you okay? Did you hurt anything?”
She could
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