Number Eleven

Chapter 10.

Ava POV 

"Here we are, M'lady," Oakley announces as we pull up into the rarely empty parking lot of the Arena, the rain creating a mirror-like effect on the concrete. 

"I have a quick question that I probably should have asked like, maybe before we left, but what skates am I even using?" 

Yeah, yeah, Ava, were you even thinking? No, I clearly was not.

Scratching the back of his neck with one arm, he reaches behind him to the backseat with the other and grabs what I'm assuming to be his hockey bag, and bringing it into his lap.

"I may or may not have looked at your shoe size before we left my house earlier. You and my sister miraculously have the same size feet so I just grabbed the skates she uses when they come to visit me. I hope that's okay?" 

His nervous rambling is adorable. 

"Yeah, of course! Thank you." I toss him a gentle smile before he turns off the truck and opens his door to get out.

"Stay there," he demands before he's out and running around to my side, opening my door for me.

I feel flushed as he waits for me, holding his hand out for me to take.

I lay my hand in his as he helps me down and shuts the door behind us. He slides his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side as we start walking into the arena.

The difference a crowd of people makes to a place is insane. It's odd being here without shouting fans. Peaceful even.

I let Oakley lead me through the arena and back into the team locker room, after assuring me multiple times nobody will be there.

What? I don't want to see any random naked men.

He lets me go when we reach a bench that sits in front of a small row of cubbies on the far side of the room. As I sit down, I decide that since I let him think I don't know how to skate, I might as well act like I don't know how to lace up skates too. When in all honesty, I just really don't want too, it's a serious pain in the ass.

I watch as he unzips his hockey bag and pulls out both sets of skates before turning to the cubby directly behind us and setting his bag down on the bottom shelf.

Oakley Hutton #11

How did I not notice we were right in front of his cubby? You're not very perceptive that's why. 

He doesn't seem to keep a lot in his cubby, the only things taking up the vast space being his jersey's as well as an extra pair of hockey socks.

Oakley sits down beside me and in record time, has his skates tied and is down on his knees getting ready to lace mine. When he slides off my Nike sandals, I try not to focus on the heat his fingers leave behind or the shiver that runs up my spine as shines his pearly whites at me. 

Who turned the temperature up in here? 

Slipping the right skate on first, I watch as his fingers quickly and skillfully loop the laces through each hole, not too tight and not too loose. In no time, he has the other one in his hand, slipping it on and repeating the steps.

"All done, princess. They feel okay?" I snap out of my trance and notice he's now standing up and looking down at me with a gentle smile, waiting for my answer. Holy crap, he literally towers over me with his skates on.

Quickly standing up, I wiggle my toes and give him a grin. "Perfect. Thank you."

He wraps his hand around mine and gently helps me to the hallway that leads out to the ice. I purposely stumble a little as we make our way out, which in turn causes Oakley to wrap an arm around my waist to steady me. 

Hey, nobody can walk on skates perfectly the first time they wear them. Come on.

As we reach the arena, I take a look around, realizing I've never seen it empty before.

There are no goalie nets, only markings to show where they belong. No refs are skating around blowing whistles as opposing players push and shove each other. Gone are the groups of people sitting in the ugly blue seats that make up half the arena, no signs held up against the glass barriers.

Oakley's voice breaks me out of my daydream. 

"Peaceful isn't it? Don't get me wrong. I love playing hockey, but sometimes it's nice just to skate. There's no pressure when you're just skating." 

I look over and see his mossy orbs swell with an unfamiliar look before a quick blink washes it away.  

"You ready? I promise I'm a fantastic teacher." He steps onto the ice and turns himself so he's facing me with his hands held out waiting for mine. Slowly I start making my way to him and grab his hands before he slowly guides me as I step one skate on the ice, followed by the other.

I suddenly wish it was Oakley teaching me how to skate for the first time.

For the next few minutes, we skate around in slow laps around the boards, him skating backward and me trying my best to look like I'm struggling as I push my feet forwards. 

"When were you going to tell me you already know how to skate?" 

Oh s**t. I let out an awkward chuckle before slowly and cautiously meeting his gaze.

The i***t breaks out laughing and pulls me into a tight hug.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and pull away before I start skating backward away from him with a huge grin. 

"How did you know?" I shout when I see him slowly start sliding towards me with a predatory smirk.

"Babe, I've taught people how to skate before. You caught on way too fast. You could have just told me you already knew." 

Yeah, I know, I just didn't want too. 

Suddenly the cuts on the ice seem really interesting.

Wait, babe? There go the butterflies again.

"Maybe I just wanted to replace those memories with new ones?" It comes out as more of a question than an answer but oh well. I really do want today to be the first thing that pops into my head when I think of skating, rather than all the times David taught me.

I don't realize that I've stopped skating until I feel Oakley's fingers gently lifting my chin, his eyes burning holes into my forehead as they force me to meet them with my own. The hand that isn't holding my chin wraps itself around my waist and pulls me in tight against his chest. My heart is going to break through my chest any minute now; I'm confident he can feel it beating against him.

"You know the easiest thing that will help with that?" The words slip from his lips as a soft whisper, his breath heavy on my lips serving as a reminder of how close we are.

"What?" I can feel his nose brushing against mine.

"This." 

The air is sucked out of my lungs as he presses his lips gently against mine. 

Oakley Hutton is kissing me. 

The heat from his fingers rubbing the skin of my now exposed hip brings me back to reality. I reach up and wrap one hand around the back of his neck, my fingers tangling themselves in his hair as I try and pull him even closer to me, kissing him back with everything I have.

Suddenly the gentle kiss is replaced with one of hunger — our built-up need dissolving all other thoughts.

He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and releases it with a snap as I feel his tongue slip in my mouth, desperately meeting with mine. Our tongues battle for dominance while I use the hand that's resting at my side to slowly move underneath the material of his shirt and finally let myself feel the hot, rigid muscles that rest there. 

Tracing my fingers over every indent and curve, I hear a groan slip past Oakley's lips and I press myself impossibly closer to him, loving the effect my touch has on him.

This guy is a phenomenal kisser.

Pressing my back up against the boards, he unlatches his mouth from mine and starts leaving a trail of wet kisses along my jaw, stopping to give extra attention to the soft stop by my ear before sucking a little harder.

He's lit a fire in me that only he can put out.

It turns out, Oakley has more self-control than me. He gently presses our lips together one last time before moving his hands to wrap around my waist again.

Pulling back, I meet his lust-filled eyes with my own and rest my forehead on his shoulder as we both try and regain our ability to breathe.

Lifting my head, I take a look around the ice. "Do you happen to know how we got over here?" I give Oakley a curious look before we both burst out laughing, neither of us making any effort to leave each other's arms.