Her heart had kicked against her ribs. She’d felt a little weird. Strange. And then she recognized the feeling as excitement. She was excited about seeing him. Excited about the night ahead. And yes, maybe the night after that.

For the first time in her life she’d thought that yes, she wanted to try this. It had taken a few more circuits of the cabin for her to pluck up the courage to go inside and make that announcement.

She’d rehearsed a few times, had the words all planned, but they’d dissolved in her head as soon as she’d seen him making up the bed on the sofa. He’d smiled at her, as if this was perfectly normal.

I thought I’d sleep here tonight.

She’d stood without moving, none of the words in her head any use to her now. She’d come so close to voicing her feelings, and she would have been setting herself up for rejection. She’d read all the signs wrong. The new tender shoots of confidence that had emerged after her conversation with Christy withered and died.

She felt weak at the thought of all the things she’d almost said. What a fool she’d almost made of herself! What if she hadn’t done those circuits of the cabin? She might have gone indoors sooner, before he’d made up the sofa. She might have told him how she felt and then had to listen to him telling her he didn’t feel the same way. She was an expert at rejection. It really shouldn’t bother her. But this time it did. Because she liked him. Damn it, she liked him a lot, and that was his fault because he’d sneaked under her defenses, melted her icy heart and generally turned her into a puddle of her former self. He’d made her vulnerable, and she didn’t know how to handle it.

Normally, she would have walked away long before this point. She didn’t give the other person time to reject her, because she rejected them first.

Fortunately, she had years of experience of hiding her feelings, and she’d managed not to make a fool of herself.

Zac had been civil, and she’d been civil back, which had taken a lot of effort on her part because she felt hurt, angry and confused. Relationships were a language, she decided. And she didn’t speak it. She felt as bruised as she’d been after her fall on the ice, only this time all the damage was on the inside.

And now they were going to see the aurora together, and if one more person told her it was going to be romantic she’d wish frostbite on them.

She felt a dragging depression. Could she cancel their evening trip? No, that would lead to questions, and she didn’t want to talk to anyone.

She’d get through it, she told herself. Seeing the aurora didn’t have to be romantic, did it? People traveled here purely to see the northern lights. It was a bucket-list activity. One of the top tourist attractions of the Arctic Circle. There was nothing that said it was only open to people who were prepared to be soppy with each other.