Between The Lines

Chapter 92: 'Olympic Worthy Performance'

Third Person:

As they made their way to a heated area, the awkwardness between them was palpable. They sat down at a table, and Rebecca cradled her cup of hot chocolate, trying to focus on the warmth spreading through her fingers rather than the tension in the air.

"So," Matt said, breaking the silence. "How's everyone enjoying the rink?"

"It's great," Oliver chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "Especially watching Rebecca's Olympic-worthy performance."

"Ha ha," Rebecca said sarcastically, taking a sip of her drink. "I didn't see you doing any triple axels out there, Oliver."

Charlotte giggled, nudging Rebecca. "You did fine. Besides, it's more fun to laugh at ourselves, right?"

"Right," Rebecca agreed, but she couldn't help feeling self-conscious.

Lane, sitting across from her, watched her intently. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, avoiding his gaze.

The conversation continued, but it was strained. Matt, always the instigator, kept throwing glances at Lane and Rebecca, his smirk never fading.

Matt and his wife stood up, grinning mischievously. "We're going to head back onto the ice," Matt announced. "We booked a private rink, so join us when you're done."

Oliver and Charlotte followed soon after, leaving Rebecca and Lane alone at the table. Rebecca quickly downed the rest of her hot chocolate, nearly burning her tongue in the process. "I'm heading to the private rink," she mumbled, desperate to escape Lane's intense gaze.

Lane watched her go, a concerned look on his face. He finished his drink and followed her to the private rink. When he walked in, he saw Rebecca already on the ice, calling out to the others.

"Guys? This isn't funny!" she yelled, her voice echoing slightly in the empty rink.

Lane couldn't help but smile at her frustration. "Rebecca, I think they set us up."

She spun around, nearly slipping. "Lane! Oh my God, I can't believe this. They're trying to play matchmaker in a freezing rink!"

He skated over to her. "It looks that way. But hey, at least we get some alone time."

Rebecca huffed, crossing her arms and attempting to steady herself. "Alone time? In a refrigerator? How romantic."

Lane chuckled, stopping in front of her. "Come on, it's not that bad. Plus, you have me to keep you warm."

Rebecca rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "I don't know, Mr. Smooth Talker. You don't seem to be doing much warming up."

Lane reached out, taking her hands in his. "Let's skate. It'll keep us warm."

She tried to pull her hands away. "I can't skate. I'm going to fall and break something."

Rebecca tried to keep some distance between them, her frustration and the cold making her shiver. She kept her eyes fixed on the ice, focusing on not falling over. Lane, on the other hand, was trying his best to make things right, but every time he got close, she'd move away, wobbling on her skates.

"Rebecca," he said gently, "I know you're mad. But we need to talk."

She shot him a glare, her breath visible in the cold air. "There's nothing to talk about, Lane. This whole thing is ridiculous. I'm freezing, and I just want to get out of here."

Lane skated closer, his eyes filled with concern. "I know you're cold. Here, let me help." He started unwrapping his scarf.

She stepped back, almost losing her balance. "No, I'm fine. I don't need your help."