She's pressed against my side now, her hand fisted in my jacket, and I can smell that vanilla scent even through the cold air.
"This is humiliating," she mutters.
"This is you trying something new. Nothing humiliating about that."
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one flailing around like a baby deer."
I can't help it—I laugh. "You're not flailing. You're learning."
We continue across the ice, her clinging to me, me keeping her upright. Slowly, she gains confidence. Her grip loosens slightly. She takes a few steps on her own.
"I'm doing it!" she says, delighted.
"You are."
Then her foot hits a rough patch and she goes down. I try to catch her, but momentum takes us both. We land in a tangle of limbs, me partially on top of her to cushion her fall.
"You okay?" I demand, immediately checking her over. "Did you hit your head? Does anything hurt?"
"I'm fine." She's laughing, actually laughing. "Just bruised pride."
I'm still hovering over her, hands on either side of her head, our faces inches apart. Her laughter fades as she realizes the position we're in.
Her eyes drop to my mouth. Mine drop to hers.
"Silas," she whispers.
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to close the distance. To kiss her right here on the frozen lake. To show her exactly how much I want her.
But I don't.
Instead, I carefully push myself up and offer her my hand. "Come on. Let's get you vertical."
She lets me pull her to her feet, and I don't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes.
Good. Let her want me. Let her feel this pull the way I do. Let her understand that when I finally give in, it's going to be worth the wait.
We make our way back to shore, and she immediately bends down and scoops up snow.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Building a snowman. Obviously."
"Obviously."
She starts rolling a ball of snow, and I watch her for a moment before joining in. We work together, building a base, then a middle section, then a head. She's precise about it, making sure everything is properly proportioned.
"You're very serious about this snowman," I observe.
"All snowmen deserve to be built with integrity."
"Is that a direct quote from the Snowman Building Handbook?"
She throws snow at me. It hits my chest, and I raise an eyebrow.
"Did you just throw snow at me?"
"Maybe." She's grinning now, eyes sparkling. "What are you going to do about it?"
