A soft knock taps at the door, and Archer appears. “Hey. You ready? I’ve got the car warming up. Is this your bag?” He nods to my large duffle.
It’s stuffed full of my ice skates, snacks, and extra laces and other necessities.
Before I can respond, Mindy speaks. “Um, excuse me, who is that with the sultry voice?”
“It’s no one.” I make throat-slashing motions at Archer.
He smiles.
“Doesn’t sound like no one.”
“I’m Archer,” he calls out.
Mindy gasps in delight. “Who is Archer? Archer, who are you?”
“I’ll call you later, Mindy. I’m hanging up now.”
“He sounds hot. You have something else you want to share, Fin?” She gets out right before I hit the end call button.
My face is on fire.
I shove my cell into the side pocket of my leggings. “I’m ready.” We’re going to pretend none of that just happened.
Archer is grinning at me, lifting my bag off the floor. “Do you need help with anything else before we go?”
My shoulders slump, relieved he’s not going to mention Mindy’s parting comments.
“No. We should be good.”
We walk out to his car, and he puts my bag in the back seat before opening the passenger door for me.
Within minutes, we’re on the road, tires humming over the pavement. I focus out the window so I don’t stare at his rugged profile.
We sit in comfortable silence for the first few miles.
“How long have you been teaching ice skating?” he asks as he’s getting on the interstate toward Binghampton.
“A few years now.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“I love it. I wish I could do it more. There’s nothing better than seeing a kid land a jump for the first time. My morning classes are groups of younger kids, and in the afternoon, I offer private lessons.”
“Are any of them good?” he asks.
I smile, thinking about how Trina placed in the National Showcase last month. “Yes. A few of them are at competition level.”
“You must be a good teacher.”
I wave off the compliment. “I try. Thanks again for taking me. You sure you’re going to have enough to keep you busy for six hours?”
“I’ll be fine. I have work to do since I’ve been otherwise occupied the past few days.” He gives me a sidelong look. “Do you like teaching better than managing the cottages?”
I snort out a laugh. “I don’tlikerunning the cottages.”
My breath stutters to a stop in my throat. The words hang there in the air between us like one of those conversation bubbles in a comic strip.
I didn’t even realize the thought existed in my head until I said it out loud. Where did those words come from?