“What are we gonna do?” I ask.
“When’s the last time you had any fun?” I shrug my shoulders and he says, “So let’s have some fun.”
A COUPLE HOURS later, I’m back home. Declan called a little bit ago, saying he was on his way and to be sure I was dressed warm. So I’ve made sure to comply since the temperatures are no less than frigid as the snow continues to fall.
When the doorman calls to let me know Declan is here, I grab my wool coat, scarf, gloves, and knit hat. I see Declan standing in the lobby as the elevator doors open, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him dressed down in a pair of dark wash jeans and grey sweater under his black wool coat. He looks sharp, and when he turns towards me, his smile grows.
“You ready?” he asks as we walk towards each other.
“I’m not sure,” I respond warily. “I don’t know what we’re doing.”
“Come on.”
I follow him out the front doors and see his car parked along the street, but he leads me in the opposite direction.
“We’re not driving?”
“No.”
I slip on my ivory knit hat and wrap my scarf a couple more times around my neck while he watches with a smile and then holds his hand out for me. I don’t take it at the risk of someone seeing me, so when I begin to walk, he places his hand on the small of my back as he leads us across the street to Millennium Park.
“You know it’s closed, right?” I ask when he leads us to the ice rink. “The snow’s too thick.”
“It’s closed for everyone in the city, but you.”
“What?”
“Mr. McKinnon,” a young man greets as we approach the rink.
“Walter, thanks for doing this,” Declan says as they shake hands.
“Any time, man,” he responds and then looks at me, asking, “You ready?”
“We’re skating?”
Declan laughs, and Walter says, “That’s the deal we made. You ever been?”
Slightly embarrassed, I tell him, “Actually . . . no. I haven’t.”
“Never?” Declan asks, and when I shake my head, he says, “But you live here in the park.” When I shrug my shoulders, he jokes, “This oughta be fun,” and I smile at his mischievous grin.
After we grab our skates, Walter opens the gate to the rink, and I grab ahold of the metal railing as Declan steps out onto the ice with ease.
“Take my hand,” he instructs, seeing my nervousness.
“This is embarrassing,” I tell him.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“You’re always so uptight, Nina,” he says. “Come on, take my hand.”
“I’m gonna fall on my ass.”
He glides over to me, holding out both of his hands, and tells me, “Let go of the railing and take my hands.”
Placing one hand in his, I step onto the ice before letting go of the railing and giving him my other hand. It doesn’t take but a second before my balance falters, and I fall into his chest. He grips my waist, laughing, and says, “Relax. You’re too stiff.”
“It’s freezing out here, and you’ve got me on ice. I can’t relax,” I grumble.
“Stop bitching.” He then takes my hands again and begins skating backwards while gliding me forward. “Try moving your feet.”
“Uh uh. I’ll fall.”
With a grin on his face, he asks, “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Are you serious? I could ask you the same question.”
“Just for today, why don’t you try trusting me?”
As he continues to hold my hands and pull me around the rink while he skates backwards with total control, I question, “Is that what you like? Having someone that just obeys you and never voices their opinion?”
“No, Nina. It’s not about obeying, it’s about trusting; something I don’t think you do too easily.”
“Trust can be costly,” I argue.
“Or it can be comforting.”
He keeps his eyes steady on me when I finally give in, and with a sigh, agree, “Okay, fine. One day.”
His smile is cocky, and I shake my head at him, asking, “How did you get the rink to open for us?”
“Walter did some work for me at the hotel during construction. So I called him, slipped him a few bills, and here we are.”
“Is everything that easy for you?”
“No,” he says with a piercing look. “Some things I have to work for.”
He says this and I drop my eyes to cut the tension building, and when I do, I lose my balance, tripping over my toes. I grab on to his coat as I fall hard on my hip, pulling him down with me. He hovers over me, laughing, while I’m flat on my back.
“My ass is getting wet,” I say as I try to sit up, but he doesn’t allow me with his body lying on top of mine.
His fingers run through my hair, and he murmurs, “Your red hair is beautiful with the snow in it.”
A shiver runs through me from the chill of the ice, and he moves away, getting steady on his feet before helping me up.