The rest of the night, Reid won’t let go of my hand. If we’re on the ice, our fingers are twined together, his palm pressed against mine. It takes a lot of coaxing for Reid to let go of the wall. I promise him I don’t fall, so we won’t fall.

“Okay, but if I do you’re going down with me,” Reid says.

“If you fall, I will probably deserve that.”

He lets go so slowly you would not believe it. I turn so I’m skating backward and reach for his newly free hand, pulling him forward as I glide back. Reid squeezes his eyes shut every time we go a speed he deems too fast and it feels good, being out in the world with Reid, not talking about Melted or music, but also not just kissing.

Reid opens his eyes when we slow down to an appropriate speed.

“This almost feels like a date,” Reid says. “If, you know, our cast and band weren’t here.”

“And watching,” I add. “Thanks to you.”

Reid shrugs. “Oh. I mean. I just—”

“—got the band to take Melted seriously.”

“It is serious,” Reid says. “As is my request that an actual date be less dangerous.”

I roll my eyes. Dangerous is a bit dramatic but that doesn’t stop my stomach from swooping. “Actual date?”

Reid blushes. “I mean, if you want to. I do.”

“Me too,” I admit.

Reid and I skate in circles and our hands don’t separate, not even once.

Every time I kiss Reid Callahan I wonder why I wasn’t always kissing Reid Callahan.

We’re in my basement, post–skate date, our noses and fingertips still defrosting from the hours at the rink. Delia is at Reid’s house and my parents are in Connecticut tonight for a gig, and for the first time, we don’t have to worry about someone walking in or pretending we’re just working together or keeping our voices low. We can be whoever we want.

I want.

We barely make it to the couch before I unzip Reid’s sweatshirt. His breath hitches because this is new, but he shrugs the sweatshirt off and it falls to the floor. Reid sits, and I move onto his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist. I pull his T-shirt over his head between kissing his mouth, his jaw, his neck. My lips press against his pulse and Reid moans softly. I don’t even have time to get lost in it because before I know it Reid wraps his arms around me and flips me so my back is pressed against the couch. I pull my sweater over my head, revealing my black camisole.

Reid pulls back, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Nat.”

I roll my eyes. “Shut up.”