Slowly, she shook her head. “I don’t hear anything.”
She explained how she was able to dance as Micah appeared to listen intently.
His grip on her fingers tightened. “I think you could manage to skate a routine the same way you danced,” he told her, slipping his hand from hers to sign the words he was speaking.
The action had been unnecessary. Tessa had understood him, and her heart immediately started to ache from the lack of contact. “I can’t,” she insisted, unwilling to open a part of her life that needed to stay closed and in the past.
“Can’t or won’t?” he replied.
Micah was irritatingly persistent, and Tessa was starting to find the entire conversation uncomfortable. She didn’t want to spill her guts to a guy she barely knew. Her lips started to curve into a smile as she considered the ironic fact that both of them knew what the other one looked like naked even though they’d exchanged very few words in the past. “Won’t,” she answered honestly.
“Why?” He looked genuinely perplexed now.
She could have answered his one-word question so many ways. The best answer was that she hadn’t even tried to skate in almost a decade. She could claim that she was out of shape, which was true. Or she could try one more time to explain that she couldn’t hear the music. Again, it wouldn’t be a dishonest answer. She said none of those things.
“I’m scared,” she blurted out impulsively, telling him the real reason she’d never touched a pair of skates again. Her life in the last several years had been depressing, full of painful emotional blows and losses. Getting on ice again and failing might very well finish her off, destroy her.
He shrugged. “I think that’s natural. But you were the best in the world. Doing a simple routine would be a piece of cake. The Fund doesn’t expect you to be perfect. All of the athletes invited to perform are past Olympians. They’re all way past the age where they’re in shape for competition.”
Looking at him suspiciously, she asked, “I still haven’t figured out how your charity found me. Did you tell them where to find me?”
“I didn’t know who you were until I read that letter. I swear. I knew they were planning the event, but I didn’t know you were involved.”
“I’m not,” she answered hurriedly.
“But you can be.” He lifted an eyebrow in challenge.
Damn. Damn. Damn. There was nothing harder for her than to ignore a direct dare, and Micah was testing her. “It’s not feasible. I have jobs to do.”
He shook his head. “Not a good-enough reason. You wouldn’t have to be in New York for more than a few days to perform, and you already admitted you aren’t needed as much at the restaurant. Your responsibilities can be covered by somebody else.”
“I’d only have six weeks to prepare. I can’t get in shape in such a short amount of time, and I can’t relearn skills I’ve probably long forgotten.”
“You didn’t forget; you’ve just buried the desire to get on skates again.”
He was still spearing her with a knowing look, giving her the sense that he could almost look into her thoughts. Truth was, she did desperately want to skate again. It would be one less loss, one less gaping hole in her heart. When she’d given up the sport completely, it had left a very large void in her life.
The thought of trying and falling on her ass made her cringe. “You really don’t understand,” she muttered. “You’re an athlete in prime condition. You have all of your senses. You’re not operating with a disadvantage. It’s easy to be courageous when you have nothing to fear.”
“I understand that you’re afraid of failure, but you won’t fail. And you’re wrong. My life isn’t as perfect as you might think. I’ve had my ass in a desk chair for too long, and I’m not in great aerobic shape, but I’ll work out with you. We’ll do it together. I miss my runs.”
Before she’d started up again a few weeks ago, Tessa had missed hers, too. She’d forgotten how much until she’d gotten outside every morning.
“You never fail at anything. You can’t or you’d be dead.” She didn’t want to admit that some of the stunts he’d pulled off in the past fascinated and terrified her at the same time.
He frowned. “You’re wrong again. I’ve failed at plenty of things. I’ve broken a lot of bones before I got it right sometimes, and now it seems I’ve lost my edge. My doctor ordered me out of my office.”
“You’re sick?” She looked again at his weary expression, concerned.
“No. According to my doctor I’m just . . . fatigued and burned out.” He gave her a look that said he detested having any weaknesses. “Personally, I think he’s full of shit, but I decided I could use a break. I can only be in an office for so long before I start going stir-crazy.”
So he was hiding from the world, too. Tessa wanted to push him for more information, but his stony expression stopped her from asking any more questions. It was obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it, so she went back to the original subject.
“There’s a problem with your earlier suggestion,” she told him confidently.
“What?”
“I can’t practice. The rink my father helped build is closed. It went out of business several years ago, after he sold out his financial interest in the arena.” Her dad had given up his share to his partners soon after she’d lost her hearing.
Micah smirked. “No problem.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “I’m not sure which one fits, but it seems I’m now the proud owner of one neglected skating rink.”
Her heart starting pounding rapidly against the wall of her chest. The arena wasn’t far from where Randi’s house was located. Was it possible that he really did own the skating rink now, that he’d scooped up the closed building along with all of the property he’d recently acquired? It was highly probable, since the large acreage was for sale along with most of the other land outside the city limits in this direction.
Damn!
She looked at his attractive, grinning expression with alarm, and then stared at the keys he was now dangling between his large fingers.
If he was for real, she was screwed.
CHAPTER 3
Several days later, Micah finally took time out to consider if he was actually doing the right thing by nearly pushing Tessa back onto the ice. His instinct, his gut, told him that Tessa needed and wanted to skate again. But as she got ready to go practice for the first time, he was questioning his tactics. He’d dared her, cajoled her, and downright antagonized her for the last few days, not wanting her to give up the chance to discover that her skills hadn’t gone away with her hearing.
He felt like a first-rate jerk, which he probably was, but he didn’t want to actually admit it. He had basically continued to punch Tessa’s buttons, challenged her until her pride probably demanded that she skate.
He collapsed on the couch with a protein drink in his hand, frowning as he thought about her confession that she hadn’t skated in years. What if he was fucking wrong, what if his gut instinct was wrong? It could happen—although it generally didn’t. He could have made all the wrong moves with her. Hell, he barely knew her.