“The rules are simple!” Tina continues, waving her scepter.
“You must complete the obstacle course on the ice—slalom through Cupid’s Arrows, duck under the Kissing Arch, and jump the Log of Eternal Love. All while holding this balloon between your chests. No hands! If the balloon falls or pops, you start over. Fastest time wins one hundred Heart Points!”
I look at the balloon.
I look at Sloane’s chest.
I look at mine.
I grin.
“So,” I say, very pleased with this development, “I have to stay pressed against you for the entire course?”
“Exactly,” she says sweetly. “And if you use that as an excuse to grind more than necessary, I will take you out with my skate blade.”
Her eyes sparkle.
“Oh please, Angel.” I wink. “You love it when I grind on you.”
Her smile widens.
We skate to the starting line.
The other couples are already falling apart.
Silas and Daisy are a full-scale disaster. Daisy clearly cannot skate. Her legs are going in two opposite directions like Bambi on ice, and Silas is basically holding her upright by the collar of her hot-pink jacket like she’s a feral kitten.
“Please tell me you have health insurance,” he groans.
“I have enthusiasm, Si! That’s basically the same thing!” Daisy yells, thrilled, nearly taking his eye out with an overexcited arm.
Lucy and Lars are nauseatingly sweet. Lars is a solid mountain of a man, steady and calm, while Lucy clings to him like a koala. Bernie and Esther are holding each other up; Esther hasstuck the balloon to Bernie’s sweater with chewing gum.
Honestly? Genius.
And then there’s Joe.
Yeah. Still hate him. Possibly more than I did five minutes ago.
He’s scolding Sarah because she overinflated their balloon and it’s about to pop against her fake nails.
When he catches me looking, he straightens and skates toward us with that smug expression that makes my hands itch.
“Careful not to slip, Sloane,” he calls, stopping a few feet away.
“Balance was never your strong suit. Remember that Valentine’s Day in Central Park? You landed on your ass in front of everyone. I had to pull you up.”
My muscles lock instantly.
Every caveman instinct I have wants to launch a skate at his forehead.
But Sloane places a hand flat against my chest.
She isn’t hurt.
She isn’t shaking.
She turns to him with a bright smile, cold as the ice beneath our feet.
