"insouciance"

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(adjective) A French loanword, insouciance describes a tranquil mind at its most peaceful state. One is free from concern, worry, or anxiety; it is nonchalance to the highest degree. Indifference and composure are signs of displaying an insouciance state, but the word's most compelling attribute lies in its aesthetic and phonetic rhythm. Insouciance is a regal and sophisticated word, it holds an undetectable attribute and the coolness of nonchalance by pronouncing it. 

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Zach is a bit sceptic about this whole figure skating thing. I told him he can't break our deal so easily and I had to remind him that I suffered a session of ice hockey with him, so it's only fair if he suffers a bit now, too.

"Come here. Come stand behind me," I tell him. I find I like to be in this role. Ordering Zach Crawford around? Priceless. 

He grunts something and stands behind me. I show how him how he should stand and tell him to put his hands on my hips. "Wow. This is progressing fast," Zach jokes.

My cheeks flame a bit and I stare straight forward for a few seconds until I know I'll be able to look at him with a straight face. "Keep your head in the game, Crawford," I scold.

"Believe me, Analeigh, I'm keeping my head right where it needs to be," he responds. And I have a feeling it's not in the game at all. 

"Now throw me up in the air," I tell him.

Zach is quiet for a few moments and doesn't do anything. He then leans forward, his face next to mine, trying to keep the position I showed he has to be in. "Are you insane?" 

"No. Throw me in the air," I repeat. 

Zach releases me, as if he got burned. "Hell no. I'm not doing that."

I sigh to myself. Okay, maybe I hit him with one of the hardest moves. But it's one I've got the must difficulties performing. And I sense Zach won't have any problem to grasp around it, since he's a really good skater. The best. 

"Alright. Remember the position we were just in," I say and turn around.

Zach flashes me his infamous grin, showing me his teeth. His eyes crinkle at the corners, making him impossible hotter. What am I doing here with this man? "Trust me, I'll remember it."

I cock my head to the side slightly, curiously watching him and waiting for him to explain, but when he doesn't, I just shake my head to myself and tell myself it's best if I let it go. The butterflies in my stomach don't get that concept, thought.

I go into showing Zach how to move before throwing me in the air so he'll have the speed and the power he'll need in order to do that move. "I'm not throwing you anywhere, Analeigh," he says stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Zach, seriously," I plead. "I need your help. I've done this move a lot of times before, I know what to do once I'm in the air. You just have to get me up there." I smile at him.

Zach shakes his head. "And the next thing I know you'll break your neck. No," is his firm answer.

"Well, then. I think I have no use of you. I'll just go skate by myself." I shrug and turn around, wanting to just go skate and perform the single moves. 

"Wait! Aren't there any other moves? Easier ones? Let's try with them first," he says. 

I shake my head. "I can show you a few moves on the skate, but sooner or later, if you skate in a pair, you have an encounter with throw jumps."

Zach gulps and I watch his Adam's apple move. "Let's start with some beginner moves and maybe progress to that ... someday."

He seems even more nervous about this than me. My eyebrow arches up and I skate to him, standing in front of me. "You know, you can't break me that easily."

Zach's eyes travel up and down my body, his eyes changing a colour to a darker shade. I get goosebumps all over my body at his hot stare. "There are different forms in which you can break someone, flower. And I have no intention using any of these forms on you." 

His statement surprises me. And also confuses me. "Okay?" 

Zach gives me his charming smile, completely disarming me of any doubt I've felt about him and us hanging together. Why is this becoming so easy? 

He's making it easy. He's not giving me a feeling that I'm less than him because I'm not as successful as him and I don't have as much money as he does. He treats me like a person treats another person. It's very unnerving and he keeps successfully demolishing down my walls I built up around my heart. 

I show Zach a few moves on the skates, which he gets the grasp of in no time. That's not surprising, since he really is a good ice skater. "You would definitely not have any problem with a throw jump, Zach," I tell him.

He still looks sceptical, even after a full hour of us practising the moves on the ice. It was more for fun than not, but still. "Come on. Help me out. Please?" I turn my eyes big, giving him a pleading look.

"Fuck," he curses, putting his hand on the back of his neck and massages it. "If I hurt you, I'm never going to skate with you. I'm not joking." 

I laugh, already tasting the success of getting him where I want to. We go back to the position I first showed him. I notice he really did remember it well. When he puts his hands on my hips, he squeezes them and I stop breathing. He lessens his grip, but I still feel some sort of energy travelling up my body. 

I clear my throat and tell him how to do this. We were already practising how he has to skate and then just turn around. It's not that simple, but I'm putting my trust into his hands. 

When he first does it, I barely even go up in the air. I land on my wobbly legs because I laugh so hard. "Don't be so gentle, either!" I scold him while still chuckling.

When I look at Zach, he's giving me a hot stare. "Do you prefer it rough?"

I instantly feel my cheeks getting warmer. Is he flirting with me? Because then I'll have to disappoint him. I'm not good at this, actually the worst you could ever meet. Especially in front of a man like Zach. 

"On the ice, I do, yes," I reply, having trouble to look him in the eyes.

I know this has got a lot to do with how poorly I think of myself. I know I've got troubles with my confidence, but I can't help it. I don't see anything anyone would like on me. That's how my head works. And that's why I ruin most of the good things in my life. 

I skate back to Zach and stand in front of him again. He places his hands on my hips again and I feel his warmth all the way through my clothes, yet I still get chills in his presence. My breath hitches in my throat. Why does it feel so different when he touches me?

And most importantly, why don't I feel like this when Miles touches me? 

"But you don't like it rough when you're not on the ice?" Zach says and I feel him close to my ear, I feel his hot breath hitting my cold skin there, awakening all kind of different emotions inside of me. 

"I don't find this important enough for you to know to do this task," I reply with a slightly higher tone of my voice and with my heart beating a little bit faster. That's how the things are with him - either my heart is beating too fast around him or it's not beating at all. And I believe this is a dangerous combination, especially for my heart condition. 

"It's not important for this task. But it sure is important for other purposes."

I slightly twist in my waist. And when I do so, I bring our heads so close that our lips could touch. I have to lean back quickly. "What does that mean, Zach?" I ask him with a small voice.

Zach's mouth perks up slightly and his eyes slowly fall down on my lips. It suddenly feels like my blood is boiling inside of me. He suddenly lifts his hand and presses his thumb on my lower lip, his touch is soft and light when softly pulls my bottom lip down with his thumb, before releasing it from his touch fully. 

I'm letting out small, fast breaths because my brain forgot to focus on breathing. Can a human being even forget how to breathe? Did my brain really turn into a mush? 

"I don't think your question requires an answer, does it?" Zach's eyes flicker back to my eyes. They're dark and they remind me of a dark melted chocolate. They're warm, yet they're hard. And they are definitely a few shades darker than usually. 

His full lips are slightly parted when he's giving me a look I've never seen on a man before, especially not when looking at me. It's like he wants me. As a man wants a woman. 

I slightly shift in his arms, but when I try to go away from him, trying to put some distance between us, Zach grabs me by the arm and tsks. "Running yet again? I thought we've already talked about that." 

"I think I should probably go now. It's getting late and I have to wake up early," I ramble, suddenly nervous. 

"It's not that late yet, Analeigh," Zach caresses my name with his tongue, making it sound more sensual. Or it's just me, imagining things. "Don't you want me to throw you around some more?" he jokes.

How can he switch his personality so quickly? I'm still having a trouble breathing after the moment we just shared, while he's acting like nothing happened. Or it didn't rattle his world like it did mine. 

Is it really a good idea to stay here, alone with Zach, for some more? I already have a feeling this is getting dangerous - for me at least. 

"I'll behave," Zach promises, biting his bottom lip. 

I give him a subtle look and give in. How could some more time with him hurt? 

When Zach tries to throw me up for the second time, he does it too strong and too fast this time. I yelp when I'm up in the air and then falling down, down, crashing on the hard, cold ice. All the breath escapes out from my lungs. "Alright, maybe don't do it that rough, either," I grump, blinking a few times.

Zach is immediately by my side. "Fuck, Analeigh! Are you alright?" he asks me with concern. 

"I'll leave," I mumble and manage a small grin. It's not like I'm not used to these kind of falls. I've got bruises from all over my body, from much harsher falls and moves. 

"I told you this was not a good idea," Zach says, completely distressed. He offers me a hand and I gladly take it, standing up. He rests his hands on my arms, squatting down a bit so his eyes are on the same level as mine. "You sure you're fine?"

I make my face serious. "Ah, no. I think I feel some pain in my foot. And, oh, my hip hurts a bit, too." I shift slightly and wince. "Ouch," I breathe out and scrunch my face, gripping his shirt in my hands.

Zach looks panicked. "Okay. Alright. I'll take you to the hospital. God," he rushes out, not knowing what to do.

I can't help but burst out laughing. I cling onto his shirt with my hands and hanging my head, laughing like I've heard the best joke ever. "Dear God," I let out. "I'm fine, Zach. Really. I've had worse falls in my life." I pat his chest, trying to ignore how hard it is under my fingers, and look at his confused stare. "Do it again," I tell him.

Zach's eyes widen and he goes away from me like my words just burnt him. "I'm never doing that again."

I roll my eyes and skate to him. I turn, so my back is to him, and I put his hands on me. I get that rush of energy again, but I ignore it. "Do it again or I'm seriously going home." 

"I'll kill you if I do this again," Zach lets out, defeated. But he does it, this time better, and I land on the ice perfectly. 

It hits me what a good pair we make, how in sync we are and how our bodies fit well together. 

We skate for a long time. I'm teaching him moves and in return, I'm able to practice them. With Zach Crawford. I have an idea that this will be the highlight of my life. How much better can it even get? 

I know that if I ever have grandkids, I'll tell them all about how I had a chance to skate with one of the most popular and talented hockey players in the world. 

Zach is a quick learner and we both seem to fit well together, as far as the skating goes, of course. He still gets panicked every time I fall on the ice, but he has his own share of falls, too, although he's more concerned about me than himself, or so it seems. 

When we finish our skating 'lessons', we're both deliciously exhausted and in high spirits. When we're sitting on the bench together, so close our thighs are touching, Zach turns to me. "Can you give me your phone number?"

Well, this is unexpected. "I don't have a phone," I admit. 

Zach's eyebrows jump up and he suddenly throws his head back and laughs. "Jesus," he breathes out. "I've heard some girls tell this as an excuse when they don't want to give their number to a guy. Can't say it happened to me before," he muses.

I wink at him, putting my shoes on. "Well, everything happens for the first time, Crawford." 

I stand up to grab my stuff. "Can I at least drive you home?" he offers, not pressing me about the phone number anymore. It's not like I have on to give it to him ... 

I look at him over my shoulder. "Thank you, I already have a ride." It's not even a lie because the bus counts as a drive. Plus, I don't think I could manage to spend any more second alone with Zach in a small space of a car. "Goodnight, Zach," I tell him softly.

Now, what did you think about this?! Interesting, huh? ;)

A reminder that chapter 20 is waiting for you to read on radish just in case if you want to read more of this story :) 

Also!! I think finals were made by the devil himself. There's no other explanation. I mean; what the hell! And who gives us finals in June?! Such a nice weather outside and I'm stuck inside behind all the notebooks. Ugh.

Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. 

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