He grinned at me, looking very pleased with himself. “I figured that since so much has happened in the past week or so, you deserved a little fun.”
“Adrian,” I said desperately, “the last time I tried this I was five and I ran into a brick wall.”
He patted my shoulder. “That’s why you’re not steering.”
I found myself being dragged to the edge of a very long, very steep hill.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” I told him as he set the sled down and then made me sit. He settled himself snugly behind me and reached around my waist for the rope. “I mean, you’re immortal and that’s fine and all, but I’m a sad, pathetic normal person. I break.”
“Y’know what I think? I think you have major trust issues. And I think that since I’m both your fake boyfriend and your real bodyguard, it’s time we tried out some trust exercises.”
“I don’t think—” but I cut myself off with a high-pitched scream as Adrian kicked us off down the hill. I wanted to close my eyes, but not watching the trees whiz by was more terrifying than blindly hoping we didn’t crash into one.
“Isn’t this fun?” Adrian yelled in my ear.
“No!” I yelled back, grabbing his legs so I wouldn’t fly off. He laughed loudly.
“Just relax!”
“If I relax, I die!”
The thing is, I’m not easily scared. I went on the stomach-dropping rides at Disney World. I kissed a frog once, when I was a kid, because it seemed like a good idea. I only had a few nightmares after watching The Sixth Sense. But Adrian was steering like it was the bobsledding Olympics and he was trying to break a speed record.
Finally, finally, the hill evened out and we slowed, trailing to a stop at the edge of a small frozen pond in the middle of the woods. I leaned back against Adrian and closed my eyes, trying to get my racing heart to calm the crap down. He put his arms around my waist happily.
“That was fun.”
“If you weren’t my fake boyfriend, I’d beat you with a stick.”
“You mean, if I weren’t a vampire, you’d beat me with a stick.”
“Yeah. That.”
“You had fun. Admit it.”
I opened my eyes and stared up at him. “You have no real concept of ‘death,’ do you?”
He shrugged. “We were never in any danger.”
I muttered about showing him some danger as he slid off a backpack I hadn’t noticed him wearing and pulled out two pairs of ice-skates. Well, the small, white pair were skates—the large black ones looked like meat cleavers.
“Lace up, Ms. Holte,” he said, tossing the smaller pair at my feet. As opposed to when his aunt—sister—sister-aunt?—had called me that, coming from him, it almost sounded like a term of endearment. ‘Ms. Holte’—I kind of liked it.
I laced the skates on unhappily, knowing I was about to make a giant ass of myself out on the ice. It was hard to be average around someone like Adrian. I mean, I could kick his ass if we were competing on Project Runway, but the odds of that happening were slim to none.
“You ever done this before?” he asked, helping me take the blade protectors off.
I stared at the pond. “I’ve been to a rink two or three times. Nothing like this, though.”
He grinned. “Perfect. Come on.” He led me to the edge of the pond, holding on to my arms.
“I don’t suppose I should even bother asking if the ice will hold us?”
He put his arms around my waist. I held on tightly as he pushed us out onto the lake.
“It’s been below freezing for almost a month. Plus, it’s only five feet deep—I’ve tested it out in summer.”
All of a sudden he let go, and I clutched his jacket desperately. “What are you doing?”
“Just trust me.”
He peeled my fingers off his coat and held me at arm’s length so that only our fingertips touched, then skated backward expertly, forcing me to actually pick up my feet and skate with him. I concentrated on his skates, waiting for him to suddenly let go and sprint away from me. He didn’t.
“You’re smiling.”
I looked up at him quickly. “No, I’m not.”
“Oh. My bad. I thought you were having a good time.”
“Nope. This is one hundred percent awful.”
He nodded and slowed, holding my hand over my head, skating around me in a slow, graceful circle. Then he stopped and raised his hand, forcing me to spin in a slow, clumsy circle.
I grimaced. “I told you I wasn’t good at this.”
“You’re doing great,” he said with what sounded like sincerity. I looked up to check and then stared, puzzled.
“Why are your eyes glowing?”
His mouth drew up at the corner slightly. “I don’t know.”