Ice Skating Dreams Novels & Stories

Yet, despite the noise, when his gaze locked with Sheila’s, the world narrowed until it was just the two of them. He skated toward the center ice, the practiced grace of a man who had spent years perfecting his craft evident in every movement. But tonight, each glide, each turn, each flourish carried a weight beyond skill—it carried redemption, resilience, and a message of defiance against every person who had ever doubted him.

Chapter Two Xander Coach had been killing our asses on the rink, making us work twice as hard and I didn't mind it one bit. I knew we could use it, especially with the home games coming up. Hockey was my life, and I had every intention of going pro. Thankfully, I was already halfway there with the scouts of NHL keeping a close eyes on me. Ego aside, I was really good. So fucking good. And these fuckers knew it. "That's my man," Wade said, holding up his hand for a high five. "You killed it out there."

Truly talk. "I used to think my dad would only love me if I was on the ice," Adrian said quietly, his gaze fixed on the steam rising from his paper cup. The harsh lighting of the motel softened the sharp angles of his face, making him look younger, more like the college boy Ethan remembered. "I spent my entire childhood skating until my feet bled because I thought that was the only way to keep my family together. When he passed away... I realized I didn't even know who I was without a stick in my hand."

I should be excited that I wasn't part timing anymore, and have landed a real job at the most prestigious university in the country. "Everyone line up!" I snapped back as the team scrambles into something that's supposed to be a line. My skates hit the ice, my legs remembering what to do even after all these years, and I stand there with the speech I've rehearsed a hundred times ready to go. I open my mouth to speak. But someone breaks off from the group. Skates straight toward me with a smirk already on his face like he owns the whole rink, and my stomach drops out from under me before I even register why.

said Hansung, realizing Kim Hana's true feelings. Kim Hana smiled, but didn't make a sound. After Hansung really left, she decided to stay for a while at the cafe while watching the snow fall. Even after leaving the café. Kim Hana decided to walk around the street which is now decorated with Christmas celebrations. Unlike a normal day, after work from the office, she will immediately go home to rest or invite Olen to play the PlayStation. Kim Hana walked up to the front of a frozen lake. Not many people, only a few teenagers were seen ice skating on the frozen lake.

♣ Odessa struggled with a plan that will buy her enough time to extract the Diamond. She wanted the princess to trust her completely, that way was less stressful. The spells Odessa had were not strong enough, so she needed something else. Something Ruby should have brought with her. Ruby gasped, taking a lot of air, and jerked up from a nightmare. In the nightmare, she was being drowned by someone she could not see. She sat straight and shakily observed her environment, she didn't remember coming there the previous night. She observed the fairly lit room, sunlight barely made its way through the window.

I smiled and looped my hand through hers, pulling her out like a rom-com hero saving the damsel—but make it girl power. ~~~ Indoor Skating Hall Hazel looked around the skating rink, wide-eyed and confused like I’d taken her to an alien planet. “What are we doing here?” she asked. I smirked. “Obviously, we’re here to become Olympic figure skaters and win gold for the nation.”i said, my voice laced with sarcasm. She blinked. “But I don’t know how to skate. And we don’t even have skates—”

But no. There I was. Sitting on those hard bleachers with Sara, pretending to care what she was saying, pretending not to keep sneaking looks at him like a complete idiot. And I did. I looked at him. Over and over. I can’t help it. I hate it. The way he skates. The way he doesn’t even have to try to look like he owns the ice. His shoulders broad, his jaw tight, his stupid messy hair sticking to his forehead when he skates too hard. He doesn’t even see me there most of the time.

I whispered, “I am.” I caught my reflection in the glass of the window again and barely recognized the woman staring back. At some point, exhaustion took over. I drifted on the couch, half-asleep, half-dreaming. In my dream, Xander was there, ice rink empty, lights dim, the smell of cold air sharp and clean. He stood at center ice, hand outstretched, eyes pleading. “Come back to me, Liv.” And for a moment, I almost did. But when I reached for him, the ice cracked beneath my feet. I fell through black water, and he disappeared.

Cold air scrapes my lungs with each breath, mixing with burnt sugar from the concession stand and metal tang that clings to ice rinks everywhere. I push off again, this time with more conviction than skill. My weight settles—knees bent, blades finding the rhythm my body remembers from childhood skating lessons my mother paid for in installments she couldn't afford. Three strides and I'm moving, not gracefully, but moving. Sofia falls into pace beside me, her movements fluid in that annoying way competent people make difficult things look easy. "Remember when we tried ice skating in college?" she asks. "You mean when you tried to teach me and I spent two hours on my ass?"