Hero Duties

The bag slipped again, clanging against the wall, and I cursed under my breath. Of course I’d get assigned to lug around a hundred pounds of equipment on my first day at this job. My cheeks were already pink from embarrassment - just perfect.

“Need a hand?”

I looked up and froze. A guy outfitted in full team colours, holding a helmet under his arm, grinned at me. Broad shoulders, easy smile… the kind that made people automatically believe he could handle anything. And my god, his hair. Long, dark, curly… the type you want to run your fingers through to see if its as soft as it looks.

“I… uh… maybe?” I stammered.

He knelt down, lifting the bag like it weighed nothing. “There. Consider yourself rescued.”

I blinked at him. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Matthew,” he said simply, one eyebrow raised. “But for you? I’ll accept ‘hero.’”

I rolled my eyes but laughed despite myself. “Hero, huh? Bold claim for someone I’ve never met.”

He shrugged, tossing the bag over his shoulder. “I don’t do subtle.”

“Obviously.” I teased and fell into step beside him as he carried the equipment bag to the bench for me. I couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt - how safe. Not the “I’m famous, I’m untouchable” kind of safe, but genuinely safe, like someone had my back without even trying.

“So,” I said, brushing imaginary lint off my sleeve, “you do this for all the lost women you find wandering around the rink?”

“Only the ones who drop their gear in front of me,” he said, grinning. “Consider yourself lucky.”

I laughed again, heart thumping a little faster. “Lucky, right. That explains everything.”

A soft whistle from the ice drew his attention. He glanced back toward the rink, then down at me. “I should probably get back to the team… but,” he hesitated, eyes twinkling, “if you’re still juggling bags like this tomorrow, I’ll be here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Promise?”

“Absolutely.” He winked, then turned and strode toward the ice, every inch of him confident and unbothered. But every inch of me? Heart racing, butterflies in my stomach and completely frazzled.

And I realized, with a mix of dread and excitement, that I didn’t want him to be just a passing hero.

*************************************************************************

I had just set the last cone in place near the rink when my foot caught on the edge of a stray bag, and I nearly toppled over. Instinctively, I flailed, arms windmilling, before Matthew’s steady hands closed around my waist, holding me upright.

“Careful there,” he said, voice low but teasing, eyes twinkling. “I can’t have my favourite troublemaker face planting on my watch.”

“I’m not - ” I tried to protest, but the words caught in my throat as I processed his words. He called me his favourite… though technically, it was favourite troublemaker. I chose to ignore that last bit. He smelled like fresh ice and something faintly spicy, and I found myself leaning into his hold slightly more than necessary.

“I call it hero duties,” he said, sliding the bag of cones closer to the bench so I didn’t have to carry the last one.

“What do you mean?”

“Hero duties. Keeping my favourite troublemaker on her feet, carrying heavy bags of equipment, letting her know if she did anything she shouldn’t…” he said playfully, his lips tilted into a full smirk.

“You just like bossing me around,” I teased, trying to mask how my pulse was already doing gymnastics.

He gave a lopsided grin, shoulders relaxed. “Maybe. But only when it’s fun.”

We walked back toward the bench, and our hands brushed as I reached for a cone. Heat bloomed up my arms as I pulled back quickly, and I cursed under my breath internally. Stay cool, don’t act weird.

“Ever do this kind of work before?” he asked casually, tossing a cone into my arms like it weighed nothing.

“Uh… barely. I usually just write the stories, not move the entire rink,” I said, laughing nervously. “But apparently, today I’m a full-time strongwoman.”

“You’re doing fine,” he said, and his eyes softened just enough to make me forget to breathe. “Better than fine. You’ve got this.”

I tried to smile, trying not to melt under the gaze that seemed both playful and… protective. He wasn’t just helping. He was watching out for me. My cheeks warmed, heart thumping faster than the Zamboni smoothing the ice.

“Promise I won’t let you fall again,” he added, his hand brushing briefly against mine as he stepped back. That fleeting touch had me buzzing for reasons I didn’t even want to analyze.

I swallowed, trying to focus on the cones instead of the way my stomach had turned into a tangled mess of nerves. My hero, I thought. And suddenly, I didn’t mind if he stayed in that role a little longer.

What if I’m already falling? I thought to myself while he walked away.

*************************************************************************

The rink was crowded with chatter as I struggled with the last bag of pucks. My arms were shaking, but I refused to show weakness. Damn this job really isn’t for the uncoordinated.

“Need a hand?” Matthew’s voice cut through the noise.

Before I could answer, he stepped forward and grabbed the bag from my arms.

“Hey! I’ve got -”

Too late. The bag slipped from my grip as he lifted it effortlessly. I stumbled forward, skidding on the slick ice, my knees hitting the surface with a painful smack.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, catching me by the waist before I could fully crash.

My face burned hotter than the Zamboni engine. “I -” I tried to scramble upright, but my hands slid on the ice again. Matthew steadied me, holding me close for a heartbeat too long. Every eye in the rink seemed to snap toward us.

“Careful there,” he said, voice low but teasing, eyes twinkling. “Hero duties, remember? Can’t have my favourite troublemaker face planting on my watch.”

I shoved at him, flustered and furious. “Hero Duties! Favourite troublemaker? Really? You’re humiliating me in front of everyone!”

He blinked, genuinely confused. “I’m just… helping.”

“Helping?!” I yelled, planting my hands on my knees as I struggled to regain my dignity. “I don’t need you swooping in and making me look like a complete idiot!”

The smirk on his face faltered as he realized he’d misjudged the situation. “Okay… maybe I got carried away,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean -”

“Didn’t mean to?” I interrupted, straightening as best I could. “You don’t get to just decide I need a hero! I can handle myself!”

He took a step back, hands raised, suddenly aware of the tension radiating from me. For a moment, he just looked… startled. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled. “Alright. I get it. I messed up.”

I didn’t want to look at him. My cheeks were still flushed, my pride wounded, and I was angry enough to leave the rink entirely if I could. But even as I turned away, I knew one thing: my hero? He had a lot of apologizing to do.

*************************************************************************

The rink was quieter now, most of the players having moved on. I was gathering the last of the cones, still bristling, when I felt a presence beside me.

“Hey,” Matthew said softly, hands in his pockets, his usual confident grin replaced with something… sincere.

I didn’t look up. “Don’t.”

“I know,” he said, taking a careful step closer. “I went too far back there. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I just…” He paused, searching for words. “I thought I was helping. But I see now I didn’t. I screwed up.”

I swallowed, keeping my voice steady. “Yeah… you did.”

He held my gaze, earnest, steady. “I’m really sorry… I want to make it right. No more hero moments unless you ask for one. I promise.”

I finally looked at him, and for the first time since the fall, the sharp edge of my anger softened. “You’re… sincere?”

“Completely,” he said. “And I’ll make it up to you. How about I let you carry the last bag of pucks all by yourself, no swooping, no saving, no favourite troublemaker nonsense?”

I raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at my lips despite myself. “And if you don’t?”

He grinned, leaning closer. “Then I’ll accept full blame… and maybe buy you a hot chocolate afterward. My treat.”

I laughed softly, the tension between us melting just a little. “Fine. But I want the hot chocolate even if you do. And you’d better not hover.”

“Deal” he said, stepping back, hands raised in mock surrender. Then, quietly, he added, his voice soft enough to make my chest skip a beat, “But I’ll still be here if you need me.”

I met his eyes, and my heart skipped, fluttered, and maybe, just maybe… I thought I might let him stay.

*************************************************************************

I was stacking the last of the bags on the top shelf in the equipment room, stretching on my toes, when I felt his presence behind me.

“Need some help?” Matthew’s voice was soft, teasing just enough to make my stomach twist.

I glanced back, narrowing my eyes. “I think I can manage this time.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender but stepped closer anyway. “Alright, but I’m staying close enough to make sure you don’t drop that bag on your head.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to act unimpressed, but my cheeks warmed anyway as I hoisted the last bag up onto the shelf and turn to face him with my arms crossed. “I’m not a toddler.”

“Noted,” he said, smirking. Then, quieter, almost serious, he added, “But I like being here. With you. Even if it’s just for cones and pucks and equipment bags.”

Heat rose to my ears. “Really? That’s… oddly specific.”

“Specific, yes. But true.” He took a small step closer, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, like we were the only two people in the world. “I… like you. Not just swooping in to save you. Just… you.”

I swallowed, my heart thumping, caught somewhere between disbelief and excitement. “Matthew…”

He grinned, and that grin—softened by sincerity—made me forget my protests. “So… hot chocolate after this? My treat. You, me, and no heroic rescues.”

I laughed, nodding. “Deal. But you’re buying me the giant marshmallows too.”

He winked, his hand brushing mine briefly as he stepped back. “You drive a hard bargain, troublemaker.”

And just like that, the tension shifted. My chest, still fluttering from anger and embarrassment earlier, now felt lighter, caught in the slow pull of something thrilling, something new.

*************************************************************************

The evening air was crisp, brushing against my cheeks as I trudged along the cobbled market streets, bundled in my warmest coat and scarf. Steam curled from the hot chocolate in my gloved hands, swirling into the cold night as I laughed at Matthew’s terrible attempt to sip without spilling.

“You really are a hazard with anything warm,” I teased, shaking my head.

He grinned, scarf slightly askew, cheeks pink from the cold. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You’ve got to admire the dedication of a man who tries anyway.”

I rolled my eyes, but the flutter in my stomach betrayed my amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said, his eyes softening as he looked down at me, “but only when it counts.”

We wandered past twinkling lights and vendor stalls, the scent of roasted chestnuts and baked pastries mingling in the winter air. Somehow, amidst the laughter and chatter, the nerves from our first few days had melted away, leaving just the warmth of each other’s presence.

Matthew slowed, tilting his head toward me. “Hey… would you… maybe consider a real date? Not just hot chocolate because I promised. Like, dinner. A proper date?”

My heart skipped. “You mean… you want to go out… with me?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging but smiling that easy, confident grin that always made me forget how to breathe. “If you’ll have me.”

I felt my cheeks warm, breath catching in the cold. “I’d… I’d like that,” I admitted, voice low.

He stepped closer, careful but deliberate, letting our hands brush. “Good,” he said, tugging gently on my scarf to pull me nearer. The heat from his body pressed against mine, and I felt that familiar flutter again - the same one from the rink, the equipment room, every little moment we’d shared.

Then his lips were just a heartbeat away, brushing against mine, soft and tentative at first, before the kiss deepened, full of promise and warmth against the chill of the night. I melted into it, the world shrinking until it was just us, laughter and scarves and hot chocolate forgotten for a while.

When we pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, eyes sparkling. “So… I guess hero duties aren’t over yet?”

I smiled, shivering a little but not from the cold. “Not if you’re the hero.”

And with that, we walked on through the twinkling market, scarves tangled, hands clasped, and hearts a little lighter than they had been that morning.