“I know. But we had some great snow yesterday. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“My sense of adventure is here. In your warm apartment. Besides, we already went out. We chose a tree. Outside. Isn’t that enough?”

“No.” He looked her over. “You’re dressed warm enough and you have boots on. It’ll do. Grab your coat and stuff.”

She was not going to get out of this. “Okay, fine. But if you throw me in a snow pile, it’s over between us.”

“Jesus, Stella, I’m not twelve.”

Maybe she was being too harsh. Or too suspicious. More likely she just didn’t want to go out in the cold and the snow again. But Trick had been so sweet about the tree topper, she was going to be a sport about playing outside with him.

“Fine. We’ll go.”

“Good. And we’ll have fun.”

“Sure we will.”

She thought they’d grab a taxi outside. Instead, he took her hand in his and they started walking. The streets and sidewalks had been cleared, and she had to admit, the snow was pretty. It was cold, but walking kept her warm. Plus, she had her hat, gloves, and a scarf on, so it wasn’t like she was freezing or anything.

“Where are we going, exactly?” she asked after they entered Central Park.

He looked over at her and gave her a secretive smile. “I told you. To play.”

With it being Saturday, the park was filled with kids as well as adults. The bare trees were a stark landscape against the as-of-yet undisturbed pure white snow that had piled up along the rocks and hills of the park. It was a gorgeous backdrop and she wished she had thought to bring her camera with her to grab some shots. She did have her phone, though, so she stopped to take a few pictures as they strolled along. Trick even asked one of the passersby to take a photo of the two of them on one of the bridges. He’d pulled her against him, her cheek resting against his shoulder. She looked at the shot and thanked the person for taking the picture.

It was a good photo of the two of them.

“We look good together, don’t we?” he asked as he looked at it with her.

“Yes, we do.” She’d left her knit cap on, but wisps of her hair peeked out and her cheeks were pink from the cold. Trick had a hat on, too, but he looked rugged and oh so handsome in his pea coat, and she looked like she belonged in his arms.

Whatever. Just a picture. She was making too much of it. It had just been a long time since she’d had a picture of her and a guy.

When he stopped at the ice rink, he turned to her. “Feel like a little skating?”

She wondered if he thought she’d balk. “Sure.”

“Do you know how to skate?”

“Yes, I know how to skate.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the entrance. “Come on.”

They rented skates, and without even waiting for Trick, Stella glided out onto the ice.

She twirled around, taking in the feeling of freedom she got on the rink. It had been a couple of years since she’d been skating, and as she took a lap, she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed it. It was so much like dancing, the movement of her legs, the sense of creation she felt as she directed her skates along the ice. As she made her way back to the rink entrance, Trick came out and joined her, slipping his arm around her waist. She lifted her gaze to his and smiled, and the two of them danced around the rink, their bodies close together. Here, he wasn’t the tough hockey player. He was hers. And it wasn’t a game, it was a dance on skates. Their bodies glided effortlessly together, in tune with one another.

“You’re good at this,” he said.

“You seem surprised.”

He took her hands and, as he skated backward, because the ice was home to him, he swept her in a circle. “I am surprised.”

“I skated all the time when I was a kid. When I took dancing lessons, I envisioned myself as a figure skater someday.”

He skated around her, then came up behind her, sliding his arms alongside hers. “I could see you in those short skater outfits, doing flips in the air.”

She leaned against him and let him lead her on the ice. “You could, huh? You’re pretty awesome on the ice yourself. There’s a lyrical way to your movement.”

He stared at her. “Really? I thought I looked kind of tough.”

“Trust me, you are tough. But there’s also a beauty to the way you move on the ice.”

“Thanks. Never saw myself as pretty on the ice, though.”

“I didn’t say pretty. I said there’s a beauty to your movement. It’s the dancer in me. Anyway, we’re both good on the ice. Maybe we could do pairs. Or ice dancing.”