Chapter 13: Partners in Crime

*Natalia's POV*

Joe did exactly what I told him to with no reluctances. I had no doubt he had a million questions, but he kept them to himself as I gave him the directions.

He pulled into the parking lot, coming to a steady stop in a spot right in front of the entrance, "You're wanting to go to your work on your day off?"

"Who said it was my day off?" I debated, "I could've had a shift earlier."

"No, you didn't," he scoffed, analyzing my physical appearance on how I chose to present myself to the public.

I shifted in my seat after unbuckling my seatbelt to face him more directly, raising my eyebrow with a frown, "Are you judging me for wanting to wear comfortable clothes and leaving my apartment with a naked face? God forbid I want my pores to take a break from being clogged."

Sure, I didn't exude in a neat appearance at the moment, but that was the last thing I currently cared about. Then again, my list of things I cared about came down to only two things: fixing things with Noah and fleeing when the first on the list wasn't an option.

"I'm not judging you. I've seen you in sweats with no makeup before," he reminded me, his focus solely in our conversation rather than turning the car off, its engine still running with the headlights on, "I don't care about that shit. You're beautiful either way. I'm not sure if you went back and googled me after you found out my name and read some pretentious shit about me. I mean, that's what people do, right?"

"I didn't google you," I replied with a straight face, not missing out on this opportunity that he threw out so easily, "We only really do that when we like the person."

"Ouch," his face slightly grimaced as he glanced away, his ego bruised in a way that was intended, "You clearly like me enough to call me out of the blue after months of literally going ghost and take you on a night drive."

My invisible smirk left as I, too, glanced away into the thin air, "You were my only choice."

He slowly nodded his head, pressing his lips together, "So you called me because I'm your last resort. That kinda makes me feel a bit used, but okay."

A sudden wave of guilt washed over me, punching my gut, as my eyes landed back on Joe, "You're not my last resort. You're actually my first if we want to get technical."

"Yeah. First and only, which technically makes it the last too," he softly said gazing out the window before indenting his lower lip with his top teeth with a closed mouth.

The truth was, I did google him that night once Noah went to sleep, having no clue that I was still wide awake cuddled into his arms. His reputation wasn't bad like he insinuated it to be, but it wasn't necessarily good either. Especially the past few years, Jules not wrong with him basically linking to a different girl in each zip code. To put it in simple terminology, he was a fuckboy. Or heartbreaker, depending on how the situationship fizzled out.

"Just to put it out there," he piped up, pointing out the window, "I knew you didn't have a shift today because your workplace is closed on Mondays. It had nothing to do with what you're wearing or lack of makeup."

"Right," I cleared my throat, cringing at the shit I let excrete out of my mouth, "That would explain your reasoning a lot better than the implication I accused you of."

The lack of sound between us preoccupied the space, the radio not even turned on to take its place. It wasn't out of tension, but from a lingering humiliation and shattered pride.

My phone vibrating in my lap saved myself from my regret of potentially damaging my savior's self-esteem. But then again, he had millions of women begging at his feet to provide him an enormous ego. My words weren't that powerful to affect him more than a poke he'd forget about in a few minutes.

Raising my phone, the screen lit up as my face recognition unlocked the text message that came through. My chest began to rapidly rise and fall with my pumping heartbeat as I read it: You seriously left? Why are you abandoning me like this? I swear to fuck, if you don't come back before 9:50, we're done. I don't deserve to be treated like this, Natalia!

It was already 9:42. Joe and I were way further than eight minutes away. It was panic-inducing at how unrealistic that order was.

Instead of texting back, I replaced my keys in my front hoodie pocket with my phone and spoke up, "Are you down to go inside with me, or is this going to be a drop-off kinda thing?"

He gestured to the hours of operation sign plastered on the front door, "It's closed though. Wouldn't you get in trouble?"

I dangled my set of keys in front of me, feeling my phone vibrate against my stomach, "We'll be fine. I'm kind of royalty here."

In return, he pressed the engine button and turned off the headlights, the only sound now being his surrendered voice as he sighed out, "I guess we're going inside then."

Smiling for the first time, I hopped out of the car and rushed to a hidden door on the side. Joe followed on his own accord, trying to keep up with my pace.

There weren't many people I took to the rink. Joe would've been the third, not including any family members. The other two were Jules and Noah, but that was over a year ago. Before my whole life's direction changed for the worse.

After putting in the master code to disarm the security system, I used my flashlight on my phone to guide us to the ice. The last thing I wanted was to draw any attention from the outside by turning on the main lights of the arena.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Joe said as he kept up behind me, "If we get arrested, there's no chance I'm bailing you out with me."

"Are you saying we aren't partners in crime?" I bantered, pulling the door to the rink open before the both of us stepped down the stairs of the bleachers.

When I didn't hear a sarcastic remark back, I turned around to him standing still a few feet behind. His eyes were set on the rink, the ice glistening even in the shadows of darkness.

"Did I just figure out your biggest fear or something?" I smirked, his cautious curiosity enlightening me. There were some things even Google couldn't tell me about him, keeping his mysterious aura alive. 

"No, I just thought—" he paused, tilting his head, "So it doesn't turn into a giant puddle of water at night?"

Another vibration stifled against the hoodie's fabric, but its dooming presence remained loud under my skin. My phone was my only source connecting me to Noah still, until I decided it was enough time that he cooled down enough to talk it out. No apology from me would've been heard otherwise.

In a swift movement, I set my keys and phone down on the bench closest to the player access door and stepped up the stairs towards Joe, "Why don't we find out?"

My hand reached out to his, grabbing it to pull him down the stairs to the ice with me. His warmth clashed with the crisp air emitting from the sheets of ice. The contrast wasn't like oil and water, but like French fries dipped in a chocolate milkshake. A perfect blend of salty and sweet.

"Wait, Nat!" he giggled as I brought us onto the ice with nothing but our own sneakers and the clothes on our backs, "We're really doing this?"

Letting his hand go, I purposely ran in the opposite direction and slid with my arms stretched out to my sides for some balance. I hadn't recalled a time I intentionally glided on the ice without skates. Completely carefree, too.

Just as I was about to turn around to call Joe over to join in, his body rammed into mine. Our crash took us both out after his hands gripped onto my arms, dragging us down to the cold, hard surface. I assumed it wasn't on purpose with the concerning shock on Joe's face as we locked eyes. Then, to break the silence naturally, laughter rumbled around us.

"I take it you aren't a great ice skater," I stated within my chuckling.

"More like I'm not great on my feet," he replied, a bright beam taking over his whole expression, "I'm better on skates than I am in shoes, but I have a feeling it doesn't compare to your ability to ice skate."

"I'm not on skates either," I reminded him, our laughter slowing down.

"Not right now," the hazel in his eyes sparkled, "But I've seen you on skates before. If I recall, you were pretty good."

I shook my head, lowering my gaze, "I wasn't. I fell."

"Before that," his hand slowly tucked my hair behind my ear, uncovering my face with the front strands that fell in front of it, "All your spins and such. It was impressive. One fall doesn't define the whole performance."

My head lifted to meet eye contact, the world suddenly zoning in on nothing but us. I hadn't realized our hands holding our bodies up were touching until now.

His breath became visible, the heat blowing out like smoke between his parted lips. He looked down at mine once we were inches apart, then taking a glimpse back up at my brown eyes before focusing back on my lips.

My heart began to race, nothing similar to the panic kind that resulted from Noah's unpredictable anger. I knew the ink designs on his skin that were currently covered by his black leather jacket. I knew how soft his hair ran in between my fingers. I knew what his stubble felt like when his lips touched mine, it being the perfect length that didn't irritate my skin.

Was I really about to do this again, our chemistry undeniably transparent since our cherry stem scenario? Or was I just reacting while in a vulnerable state, emotionally using Joe to make me feel better about myself?