Tom Wilson One-Shots
Ice Skating or Bowling
“So, guys, whatcha wanna do today?”
The simultaneous answers were “Bowling” and “Ice skating.”
You pushed back until your back was pressed against the couch and forced yourself to twist around and look at the idiot behind you. “Ice skating?” you repeated, a mocking edge in your voice. “Why the fuck would we want to do that?”
“Because it’s something fun?” Tom retorted, cocking an eyebrow and crossing his arms in a defensive stance. “Especially when clumsy-ass people like you don’t know how to do it and fall every five seconds.”
Forcing yourself ignore his last remark, you chided, “But doing that would last for an hour not even.”
“And your activity wouldn’t? Two rounds would at most get you an hour and a half.”
“At least we’re doing something together that’s competitive. Not just going around in a circle, passing each other every now and then.”
Tom walked to behind the couch and crouched down in front of you. Your faces were inches apart; you could smell his minty breath from this distance. He asked, his voice low and mocking, “Are you just a wittle scared of goin’ on the ice, because you just can’t skate awound?”
“I’m not letting you bully me into this. I’m not going ice skating.”
“Team vote!” Tom yelled, suddenly standing up, causing you to slightly jump. “Let’s see who’s in fair of skating and who’s in fair of bowling.” He looked over at you with a smirk.
*
Sighing, you dropped the skates in front of you and plopped down onto the bench. You crossed your legs underneath your body and pulled out your phone.
“You seriously just spent ten bucks to not even skate and just be on your phone?” questioned one of your friends Isaac, taking a seat next to you and putting on his skates.
“I told you guys I didn’t want to go skating,” you chided, not looking up from the screen once. “I can’t believe you’re the one who went behind my back, Isaac.”
“I’m sorry! I just didn’t want to go bowling again for a second week!”
“Can’t get over being beaten by a girl?”
You lifted your head to smirk at him while he playfully punched your arm. “Of course I am,” he retorted jokingly.
“The baby’s seriously not going to put on her skates?”
You looked over your shoulder as Tom sat on the other side of the bench, mock pouting his lips at you. “I’m not gonna let you bully me into doing this,” you chimed, crossing your arms over your chest, a look of determination spreading across your face.
“C’mon. Everyone else is on the ice. We’re trying to have a nice, fun time, but Debby Downer on the bench is ruining it.”
You pursed your lips and turned your head, only to find Isaac already on the ice in a group with your other friends. You felt an underlying sense of envy watching them together.
“Are you coming or not?” Tom inquired, standing up and heading for the rink. He stopped at the entrance and faced you. “I’m not getting on ’til you do.”
You were taken back by his words and all the envy disappeared. Your eyebrows furrowed together and you asked, slowly and curiously, “Why are being… nice, Tom? Very out of character for you.”
A smirk made its way to his face as he shrugged. “I just wanna be the first to see you fall, help you, see you fall again, then leave you helpless on the ice.”
You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless found yourself putting on the skates. “I’ll just go one time around the rink,” you said to yourself or maybe to Tom. You stood up, only to sit back down, frowning.
“You can’t even walk on skates?” Tom scoffed, striding over.
“I haven’t been here in years,” was your excuse.
“Uh, huh.” He grabbed your hands and yanked you up to your feet. “C’mon. If this is your progress, we wouldn’t even make it to the ice by closing.”
You were surprised by how gentle… and, in a weird way, sweet… Tom was. His hands were wrapped around yours in a soft, but firm grip and he was carefully, intently instructing you how to walk. At one point, you stumbled before the rink entrance and he wrapped a strong upper arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest.
Your face went red as you were pressed up against his chest. “Uh, thanks,” you murmured, pushing back a little.
“It’ll be pathetic if you fall here and not on the ice,” Tom responded, but for some reason, his voice sounded restricted and tight. You glanced up at him curiously and caught the light pink tint on his cheeks. You knew you couldn’t comment on it, because your face must be worse, but… it was cute.
Finally, your feet hit the ice and the first thing you did was cling to the edge. Tom allowed his hands to linger on your arm and waist until you were firmly gripping the edge and almost standing.
“It’s easy,” he said. “Just glide one foot after another.”
“You can say that, Mr. Professional Hockey Player,” you grunted and gently started moving your feet. The moment you slightly moved away from the edge, your arms were flailing and your body was falling backwards.
But, much to your surprise, you felt no pain. Much to your surprise, Tom’s arms were wrapped firmly around your upper torso, catching you midair.
When he helped you to your feet and only moved his hands to hold you by the waist, you slightly turned back to him with wide eyes. “I thought you wanted to watch me fall?” you inquired, secretly liking the fact that he was holding and being surprisingly sweet to you.
The moment you both met in childhood, when this friend group was formed, you both immediately bumped heads and couldn’t stand each other. This lasted into adulthood – today even – and now…
You couldn’t help liking this new change.
Without a doubt, Tom was a very good looking man. Playing a sport professionally also helped his case by giving him a killer body. And you weren’t that bad of a looker yourself with the amount of boys you’ve dated or been asked out by.
“I rather not be that douchebag,” Tom responded with a shrug.
Instead of looking surprised, you smirked. “Fine. I guess you can be that douchebag who helps me learn how to skate,” you said, mock sighing.
He smirked back and dropped one hand to place on the edge and lean into you. “That may require more than one session, you know,” he responded and your noses almost brushed from your now lack of distance.
“I’ll make the sacrifice of my sanity.”
His smirk only grew. “Me, too.”
