Skating Stories Novels & Stories

She smiled, took the little girl's wrist, and together they both skated off—slowly. That was when I suddenly realized the hand still holding me—now on my arm as I turned to look at the blonde-haired man who was still staring at me. “Thank you,” He returned my smile. “I’ve never seen you around here. A first-timer?” “Here? Yes. Skating? No,” The corner of his mouth tilted up. “You don’t look much of a skater to me,” “The last time I skated was when I was ten. I had this massive fall, sprained my ankles, and didn’t dare pick up the skates anymore,” He had dropped my arm, his hand still steadying my waist—to make sure I could stand properly.

"I’d rather have a secret with you than a perfect life with anyone else. I love you too, very much." Jax smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "You're becoming a romantic, Simpson. It’s a bad look for a captain." "Shut up," I muttered, pulling him back down for another kiss. We spent the rest of the night talking. Jax told me about the rink back home where he learned to skate. It was a frozen pond that his dad had to clear with a shovel every morning. I told him about the first time I held a hockey stick and how I used to sleep with my skates on when I was six.

"Coming back here today seals it. We started scared on this ice. Now we stand with all of you." Rico blew a whistle for attention. "Enough talk for a minute. Time for the exhibition skate. But first, one more round of stories." Friends shared fast. Sam told about a late night strategy session that turned into power practice under street lights. Mia recalled family dinners where they hid powers from neighbors. Everyone laughed at the close calls. Elias leaned toward Kane during a break. "Hear all this? Our journey touched more people than we knew." Kane nodded. "Makes the hard parts worth it. The love we built, the life together on and off the ice. I would not trade any step."

I mostly listened, trying to figure out the group dynamics while struggling with skates that seemed determined to cut off circulation to my feet. Ice skating wasn't exactly my favorite activity. I'd only done it once before at a friend's birthday party, and that had ended with me sprawled on the ice like a fallen Christmas tree. But I strapped on the torture devices they called skates and tried to look like I wasn't planning to spend the entire time death-gripping the wall.

My legs gave out, having no more energy to carry me out of the gym, and I allowed myself to lay on the cool, cold ground, letting it soothe my aching and overstimulated body. I stayed there for a while, staring at the ceiling, letting my brain wander everywhere but the words that echoed in my head repeatedly. I let my mind take me back to the first time I had fallen in love with this sport. Unlike a lot of people, I had not started figure skating from a young age — no, I started skating when I was sixteen after running away from the discipline boarding school my parents had shipped me off to.

The puck flew from stick to stick so quickly I barely kept up through my lens. Then Asher stole it. One clean, predatory interception. He accelerated down the rink with that impossible, fluid speed that always made my breath catch. I instinctively tracked him. Click. Click. Click. He cut around one defender with graceful precision. Another moved in hard from the side. I adjusted my zoom, heart picking up. The defender’s skate clipped awkwardly. Everything happened at once. Balance lost. Shoulder slammed straight into Asher. The impact exploded against the boards with a sickening, violent crack.

Of all the things. “I don’t ” I start, but I’m already losing the fight. Exhaustion drags at me, thick and heavy, and underneath it is a sharp, unfamiliar panic about the fact that I’m pinned under a man I just had inside my arms, skin to skin, breathing the same air. We’re curled together. We’re talking. This is dangerous territory. “Fine,” I mutter. “What story?” “The first time you went skating.” I let out a strangled sound that might’ve been a groan if I hadn’t swallowed it. It comes out warped, low in my chest. He smiles I can’t see it, but I feel it, like warmth in the dark.

Cody was half-skating half-hopping on his bad ankle and he still got there, throwing himself into the pile with everything he had. Jett came in low and took out Jake's legs and we all went down together in a heap against the boards, sticks and gloves everywhere, everyone shouting at once. Daxen was the last one in. He dropped to his knees on the ice and slid the last few feet into the pile, grabbing whoever he could reach. "We did it!" Tyler was still yelling. "We actually did it!" Somewhere up in the stands a voice cut through clearly enough to hear, sharp and disbelieving.

“He’sso obsessed with older women that child. At least if they were younger, we wouldn’t have to worry about them ovulating nd turning their eggs into relatives of ours.” Bernard lightly patted her forehead and forced her to sit up. “Get up and tell us about your day and stop making trouble for your brother.” Not happy that her relaxation therapy was cut short, Natasha mumbled something under her breath in protest and sat up between her parents. “It wasn’t that bad actually,” she said.

You did an advert on skating shoes two years ago" " Yeah I know but it doesn't mean that I'm good at it" " Don't worry, I'm going to teach you how to skate. Let's go " " But hold on, we need to unpack" " Don't worry. The maids will do that" Gavin grasped her hand and dragged her along. Janet appeared before them, stopping them from leaving. "Tell me now, where are you guys rushing to? You two seem to be in a hurry" " Uh... we're going skating" Gavin said