Ian
The next week when I went over to pick up Em on Friday, she had been crying. Not a great omen for our evening.
“I’m sorry. I know you hate it when I cry,” she said.
Her crying made me feel helpless. I’d already discovered that Em had different tears: happy tears, frustrated tears, and upset tears. It was only the upset tears that bothered me. And these were upset tears.
I gathered her up in my arms. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“It’s nothing. Well, not nothing. Just a thing at work.” Usually, Em spoke in full, perfect paragraphs. But when she was upset, her talking went to shit.
We sat down on the couch. “Tell me about it,” I said.
“Well, it’s stupid. No, it’s important. But not big, you know?” Her soft sob got me right in the chest. “There’s this guy at work, he’s such a jerk. Nobody likes him, but he acts like he’s a big deal. He’s ridiculous, always using slang that’s way too young for him and thinking he’s so cool.”
She paused, probably to add up all his faults.
“He makes me uncomfortable. He says things and touches me.” She motioned towards her body. “But he makes it seem like an accident so if I say anything, he claims I’m overreacting. So today when I presented my third quarter projections, everyone was very complimentary. And he looks at me with this huge smirk, like they only like your presentations because you’re a woman and you’re hot. And I know what you’re thinking—how can I know that from a look? But I do know because he says stuff like that to me all the time. Then says he was joking. But I can’t go to HR because it’s all innuendo.”
I could feel a slow flame of anger building in me. “Who is this guy?”
Em raised her head from my chest. “Oh no. I’m not telling you. If you go out and fight him or whatever, you’ll get arrested for assault. You’d be way stronger than him.”
“It just bugs me that he’s hassling you.”
Then she leaned into me. “Ian, seriously, don’t try to fix my problems with violence. If you hold me—really tightly—that will make me feel better. That’s all I want.”
So I cradled Em in my arms like I was protecting her from a storm. Of course I wanted to fix things. I was furious. Em wasn’t my property, but I was the only one who got to touch her body—because she wanted me to. If she said no, this asshole should be listening.
It took a while, but she calmed down. Her breathing slowed and her body relaxed. I pulled out my phone and made some arrangements.
“Change of plans. We’re going skating,” I told her. “It’s the best way to work off your frustrations.”
“Okay.” She got all bundled up, and off we went. Luckily I still had my skates in the back of the truck.
“Aren’t we going skating on the canal?” she asked as we headed north towards the Gatineaus.
“Nope. Something different.” She wanted to have fun, and I wanted to show her another side of Ottawa. From what Em had said, she spent most of her dates at hipster restaurants and foreign movies. I wasn’t into that stuff. I liked dates where we did stuff, and Em needed to shake up her world a little.
“Patinage en forêt,” she read as we got there. “I think that means skating in the forest, right?”
“Yup.”
“Oh, that’s so cool.” Em’s face glowed with excitement like a kid at Christmas. “How did you find out about this place?”
“Dunno. I’ve lived around here for most of my life.” Ottawa wasn’t a huge city, so it was easy to find out what was happening.
We checked in and put on our skates. It was a good night for skating too: no snow or sleet, and temperatures just above freezing.
There was a big bonfire at the beginning with people warming their faces. A wood hut had hot drinks and snacks. But beyond that was the trail—a winding ice path leading through the trees. And tonight it was lit up with torches.
We put our skates on, and Em was full of questions. “How long is the trail? Is it all trees or does it go to a pond? Are we getting hot chocolate at the end?”
I grabbed her mittened hand in mine. “Princess, you need to calm down. How about just enjoying the skate?”
We started down the trail.
“Oh, Ian, it’s so beautiful. Those are real torches along the path. It looks like a fairyland.” It did look good. The trees loomed dark on both sides of the ice trail, but the flickering firelight made everything golden.
Em was not a bad skater. When we got to the first short cut, I asked her how long she wanted to skate.
She beamed up at me. “I want to skate forever. It’s so cool.”
“Well, the full trail is three clicks. Can you go that far?”
“Sure. Isn’t this fun? And we keep seeing new things. I’ve skated on the canal many times but doing this—surrounded by nature and in the dark—it’s a wonderful adventure.”
And the best part was that she had forgotten all about the asshat at work. That was the problem with brainiacs like Em and Mason. They got all twisted up in their heads when what they really needed to do was go out for a run or do something fun. Stuff never got better from dwelling on it.
“Would this be good practice for hockey players?” she asked me.
“Nope. Hockey is all about turning and shifting and stopping.” She looked disappointed, so I added, “Most hockey players love a chance to skate outside, though. Reminds us of learning to play on some outdoor rink or even in a backyard for the lucky ones.”
We glided along over the icy trail. Em hadn’t let go of my hand for one second.
“I’ve heard that some NHL guys sneak out to skate on the canal when they come to play the Sens,” I told her.
“That’s so sweet. Even though they skate all the time, they skate for fun too.”
Then we skated without talking for a while. It was nice to breathe in the fresh air and see the outlines of the trees in the moonlight.
“Oh look.” Em screeched to a stop, and I pulled up beside her. “An owl! I saw its eyes glinting.”
She pointed to a shadowy outline perched on a branch just beyond the torchlights. Then he took off, his wings sounding into the quiet.
“You into animals?” I asked.
“More in the abstract, like zoos. I got Isaiah because I wasn’t adapting well to living all on my own. But I didn’t want a pet like a dog that would be a lot of work. A hedgehog is perfect because he’s companionable, but I don’t have to worry that he’s getting neurotic because I’m not paying enough attention to him.”
“People do that?” I asked.
“Yes. Lots of people get their pets treated for anxiety or depression.”
I snorted. “Like how? They take them to a pet shrink who listens to their problems?” I switched to a tiny voice, “Oh doctor, I can see the birds but never catch the birds.”
Em giggled. “No, of course not. But if your pet stops eating or loses fur, they might be stressed.”
“Isaiah doesn’t seem stressed.” Unless sleeping 23 hours a day was a sign of stress. Although who knew what he was doing in his little cave, maybe watching prickly hedgehog porn.
“That’s why he’s the right pet for me. Have you ever had a pet?”
I shook my head. I was a pretty high energy kid so my grandparents found raising me to be enough work. Pets didn’t interest me, but I’d always wanted an older brother or sister.
We’d reached the farthest end of the trail where it looped around. There was a bit of a wind here and darkness where one of the torches had blown out. Em shivered.
“You cold?” I asked.
“A little,” she said.
“C’mere.” I pulled her into me and kissed her. Her mouth was chilly, and she tasted fruity. I licked her lips.
“You like my lip balm?” She pulled out a tube and rubbed it over her lips. Then she tried to do mine too. I grabbed her wrist, took away the lip balm and then applied it all over her nose.
“Ian, don’t!” She tried to sound mad. I took off down the trail and she followed.
“Wait,” she called after five minutes. She was huffing and puffing when she caught up.
I shook my head. “Someone’s out of shape.”
She squeezed my ass through my jacket. “I’m doing reps later. That’s going to help.”
My cock stirred at the dirty promises in her voice. “I’ll put you through your paces, babe,” I said. “What’s on tonight’s list?”
“Blindfolded sex.” She blushed. Em’s fantasies were vanilla, but they were hot because she was so into them. A smart, beautiful girlfriend who loved getting fucked—what more could a guy ask for?