Four
Ben pulled into the parking lot of one of our childhood haunts. The flashing neon skates on the sign acted as a beacon reminding me of my age. A skating rink. The thought thrilled me and terrified me. I hadn’t worn a pair of skates in over a decade.
“Why are we here? And you better not tell me it’s because we’re skating.”
Ben shoved out of the car and rounded to the passenger side, but not before I could click the lock. I slowly shook my head with a grin on my face until he held up the fob on his keychain and clicked the button. He pulled the door open before I could lock it again.
“Cops aren’t supposed to be scared,” he said, taking my hand and easing me out of the car.
“Cops know their limits.” I followed as he led the way to the door. He tugged on the handle, and it didn’t budge. A smile split my lips. The empty parking lot should have clued him in that they weren’t open.
“Looks like they’re closed. Maybe another time.” Not.
I spun on my heels and headed back to the car, only to have his palms land on my arms as he turned me back around. A smiling face met us from the other side of the glass, along with the unmistakable sound of a lock disengaging.
“Ah, Ben. Come in. I’ve been expecting you,” an elderly man with thinning gray hair and a warm smile said, holding the door open wide.
“Jerry, it’s good to see you again. This is Lizzy.”
“Ah yes. I remember Elizabeth. Come in, come in.”
We were ushered inside before Jerry locked the doors behind us. “Whenever you’re ready, Ben.”
“You’re a good man,” Ben said, taking my hand and leading me into the rink.
Butterflies momentarily danced in my stomach before dread ran through my veins. No way could I skate. Not without breaking a precious bone when I fell.
The skating rink was exactly how I remembered it. The smell of sweaty feet and stale air hit me like a sucker-punch to the gut. The air conditioner was cranked up so high it caused goosebumps to rise on my arms. It was remarkably quiet, but I could still hear the phantom echoes of wheels against the wooden floor.
There was a reason I quit going to this place, and that reason had a hold of my hand leading me into the middle of the floor.
“Shoes aren’t allowed on the floor.”
“Jerry made an exception for us. I was his best DJ.”
The lights dimmed, and the disco ball spun to life. Ben took my hands and placed them on his shoulder, and resting his on my waist, he pulled me closer. My pulse quickened by his touch that started stoking a rapidly spreading fire within me.
He gave a quick nod toward the DJ booth, and a sweet melody from times gone by drifted through the speakers as we swayed to the music.
“This is our song.”
“We don’t have a song,” I lied as a knot of longing rose in my throat.I will not give in. I will not.
“Sure we do. This is the first slow song we skated to. Don’t you remember?”
I remembered it well. I remembered everything about Ben Michaels. “My brother was home with the flu.”
“I should have done things differently.” His words were a whisper in my hair as he held me to his chest.
“My brother would have kicked your ass,” I teased.
“He could have tried,” Ben said, twirling me out of his arms, making me smile before spinning me back in. He dropped his hold and cradled my cheeks, staring deeply into my eyes. I knew that look. He was going to seal the deal.
“Why did you bring me here?” I stopped him as he lowered his lips to mine.
“To show you I remembered. I never forgot.”
“It’s fitting, really.” My heart clenched as I nibbled my bottom lip between my teeth. “This is where it all started and stopped. Do you want to know why I quit coming here?”
