#ryan murray

you and ryan were at the rink by yourselves. you had asked if you could borrow the rink for a couple hours, just to get a feel for the arena.

"and you're sure we're allowed to be here?"

"you were literally there when i showed him the badge." he deadpanned as he tightened your skates.

"right, right, just don't want to get banned for ball arena or something."

"you're not gonna get banned. i work here."

"you don't know that. what if you get banned too and then you can't play?"

"that's not a thing."

"well, there's a first time for everything."

"just get on the ice." he shook his head. you raised your hands in surrender and tossed a few pucks onto the ice.

you were, in no way, trained in the sport of hockey, but you had been dating ryan long enough to pick up a few skills, "all right, let's make things a little more exciting."

"what did you have in mind?" you raised a brow.

"first to score 5 points has to pay for dinner tonight."

"oh, come on, that's not fair. you do this for a living," you whined.

"fine, five for you, ten for me." you pursed your lips as you thought about the offer.

"deal." you shook his hand.

he, in fact, did win. you didn't even get a goal before he got 5 of his, "this isn't fair." you glared as he scored his last goal.

"awh, don't be a sore loser." he laughed.

you pouted, "i challenge you to a fight."

"a fight? i'm not gonna fight you." he laughed.

you responded by dropping the pair of gloves he had given you and your stick on the ground, "oh, we're dropping the gloves." he nodded, trying to contain his smile.

"let's go." you squared up.

"you're cute." he laughed, picking up the stuff you threw and throwing an arm around your shoulders, "i'll pay for dinner."

"but-"