“That’s hard, Oliver,” I said, unable to keep the thickness out of my voice.

Something about my words seemed to snap Oliver out of his daze because he immediately shook his dark waves and threw a smile on his face. “Not as hard as ice-skating is, apparently. You look like a drunk baby giraffe out here.”

My cheeks flushed instantly. Not because I was offended—I knew I sucked at this—but because of the way he so smoothly returned to his lighthearted self. It was if I had imagined him opening up a moment ago.

“I’m doing fine,” I insisted. “Look.” I let go of his hand for a few glides. “See?”

He tossed his head back and chuckled. “You’re basically skating circles around me.”

“Now back to the conversation,” I continued.

His smile immediately dropped like a mask as he skated ahead of me. “You want to take a break? Get some more hot chocolate?” he asked.

“No,” I said, struggling to keep up with him. “You can’t run away from talking to me.”

“I’m not.”

But he continued to skate away from me.

Why did he have to be so impossible? Maybe I shouldn’t be pushing, but he knew me by now. I wasn’t carefree like him. I had been pushy with the questions the last time we’d hung out, and he should have known it’d only get worse if he asked me out on a real date. I didn’t have it in me to pretend that I didn’t care about who he was.

“Hey—whoa!” I had attempted to go too fast. My arms flailed as I tried to regain my balance so that I didn’t plop right onto my behind. I was about to lose the battle with gravity when strong hands encircled my waist, easily steadying me.

“I’ve got you,” Oliver whispered.

I breathed a sigh of relief as he loosened his grip, while still maintaining contact and moving away so that he was staring down at me.

I smacked him in the chest. “You abandoned me.” I glared up at him, eyes narrowed.

His eyebrows furrowed together before he let out a breath of a laugh. “I was right here.”

“Don’t do it again,” I warned.

“Never.”

We skated in silence for a bit after that. I badly wanted to ask him more, but I didn’t want him to shut down on me again.

My best bet was slow and steady with him. I didn’t know what we were or where this was going—likely nowhere fast. But what I did know was that I cared about Oliver. Probably more than I should. He was special. Maybe we were nothing alike, but there was nothing I wanted more right now than to understand him.

SIXTEEN

Oliver

My entire chest was on fire as I watched Frankie take off her ice skates. I had already laced up my boots and was ready to get the hell out of there. Shame had overshadowed every thought in my mind.

This date was a bad idea. I should have known that. She was under my skin, completely and effortlessly. She made me comfortable in an unfamiliar way, which had caused me to overshare—something I literally never did. Any sort of reflective, heavy conversations were my kryptonite. Somehow, Frankie had coaxed some of my deepest innermost thoughts and insecurities out of me, and now I was feeling uncomfortable as hell.