"I don't want dinner." I looked at the patch of ice. It was short, but there was just enough room for the setup. "I want roses. White ones."
"If you land it," he pumped his brows.
I narrowed my eyes. "Fine. Hold this." I took off my jacket and handed it to him. "Hold onto Dash. I don't want to land on him."
Beck tucked his index finger under Dash's collar and I skated to the edge of our cleared patch.
I shook out my hands. It's just a jump. One I haven't landed in years. When I had enough speed, I leaned hard into my edge, reached back with my toe-pick, and bailed.
I didn't even try to rotate. I landed on two feet and stumbled forward.
"You popped it.”
"The ice is bad."
"The ice is fine. You hesitated." He skated over to me. "You stopped trusting yourself right at the take-off."
"Thanks, Coach," I snapped. "It's harder than it looks."
"I know." He reached out, grabbing my hand to stop me from skating away. "Clara. Look at me."
I looked up.
"You didn't fall," he said softly. "Try it again."
"No," I growled and yanked my hand away.
"Okay." He held up his hands like he was in a stick-up. "Then let's do something else. Remember the pairs routine? The one we did before power skating?"
"We were eight."
"And we were awesome. Come on."
I smiled. "You will drop me on my head."
"Trust me." He was talking about the move, but it felt like he was referring to something deeper.
He skated down the ice, spread his feet apart wide, and reached his hands between his legs. "Clara, come on!" he shouted, his eyes locked on me from his upside-down view.
I followed. I grabbed his strong hands and let myself drop backwards as he yanked me with enough force to tug me through his legs and launch me into the air in front of him. He let go of one hand and I instinctively twisted to land backwards on one foot.
It was fucking awesome. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins and I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face. "That was incredible," I gushed as I glided backwards, pulling Beck along for the ride.
"You're incredible." He yanked me again, but this time I slammed into his body.
His lips were on mine and mine were on his. It was hard to say who initiated the kiss.
For a few seconds, there was no stupid deal and no history.
We coasted to a stop, chest to chest, breathing hard in the thin mountain air.
"See?" he murmured, his hand lingering on my waist. "I didn't drop you."
"Yet."
A rumble echoed off the mountains.
We both turned. A massive orange snowplow was cresting the hill, throwing a wave of snow off the road.
