Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Nico?”
I shake my head, Emelia pulling me from wherever the hell I just went.“Yes?”
“Can I have music on? I want to skate to my favorite song.”
“Sure. Where’s your phone?”
“In my bag, back pocket.” She pushes off the glass and starts skating backward. “It's Lana Del Ray’s ‘Young and Beautiful,’” she hollers, and I look over at the employee in the box who has his head buried in his phone. Walking over to where he is, I sort through her songs and find the one she asked for. Tapping on the glass, I alert him, and he stands fast, coming to unlock the box.
“Yes, sir?”
“Plug this in and play this song.” I show him, and he nods. He’s young and will know how to use an iPhone. I walk back, but this time, I take a seat at the top of the bleachers. I want to take her in, all of her. See her become one with the ice.
The humming sound of a low, feminine voice and a piano starts, and Emelia closes her eyes where she’s positioned in the middle of the rink. She doesn’t move at first, and I swear I’m on the edge of my seat, waiting for her next move. The second the woman starts singing, my wife’s eyes open, and she sets into motion, gliding effortlessly, the faint sound of her blades on the ice almost adding to the music.
“Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”
The words accompany a haunting melody, and Emelia’s face shows it. It draws in tight with pain, but her moves don’t falter. She never misses a jump or landing, executing them at the perfect time, in tandem with the music. Music isn’t really something I’ve paid much attention to or realized how much of an impact it has on someone. Or how it can accompany something so painfully beautiful like it does right now.
This song will be burned into my memory, as will the image of Emelia skating to it. The song crescendos, and goose bumps rise on my body as I watch her. Fuck me. She’s taking over my head. Emelia is beautiful, sensual, challenging, talented, and she is making her way into my fucking soul.
Panic rises up in me. I don’t know if this is something I can do. Let her in. Have something with her. The only people I believed could love one another were my mother and father. After my father died, I watched my mom slowly waste away until she took her last breath. Broken hearts can kill, and that’s what took her. The idea of living without my father put her in her grave, and I swore that type of love was made solely for them and them alone. That was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.
“Emelia!” I holler out when the song stops, and she looks up at me from the center of the ice, both of us breathing heavily. She nods, knowing what I want.
I need her.
I look to the booth as I stride down the bleacher stairs, and the young man working glances at me. I tilt my head toward the exit, flashing my gun just so I don’t have to worry about him interjecting. He does what I silently told him to without a moment of hesitation. Emelia glides to the edge of the rink as I hit the bottom landing, and the second the door closes behind that now faceless employee, my hands are in her hair and our mouths are on one another. We claw at each other, the passion seeping out of us both.
“My skates.” She breaks our seal, and I shake my head.
“Keep them on,” I tell her.
“But they could hurt you.”
“I fucking hope they do. Mark me up. Make me fucking bleed for you.”
“Why do we always have to have pain? Why do you crave the harshness, Nico?” she whispers, running her hands through my hair and piercing me with her gaze.
I don’t know how to answer her in the way I think she needs me to, but I do the best I can with what I know. “Because the pain means it's real. It’s the only way I know how to let you in.”
Tears well in her eyes, and she grips the hair at the nape of my neck and brings my forehead to hers.
“You don’t have to be tough with me. You can breathe, Nico. Just breathe. I need to know you are capable of love.”
Does she love me? She didn’t directly say it, but I suddenly feel the earth tilting on its axis, and the air from my lungs feels like it's being sucked out of me by the Grim Reaper himself. I can learn to like her, but am I capable of love?
“Nico, it's okay. Breathe. We just need to focus on the now. Come back to me.” Emelia kisses the tip of my nose, then my lips.