She laughs again, and I decide that making Brittany laugh is my new favorite thing. We start making slow circles around the rink, keeping to the outer edge where it’s less crowded.
Our arms occasionally brush, sending little jolts through me each time.
“It’s really crowded now,” Brittany comments as we fall into a nice rhythm, skating slowly but steadily. “I didn’t realize how many people came to these single’s events.”
“They’re always crowded.” I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders. “But I never have that much luck at them.”
Brittany gives me a funny look. “Somehow, I can’t imagine that. Parker said you’re, like, a ladies’ man. I can’t see younotgetting tons of attention.”
I laugh, tipping my head back. “I will admit Igetattention. I just can’t ever seem to actuallykeepthe attention. It never works out for me after a date or two. But I can only imagine the attention you get.” I shoot her a wink, and she giggles, her voice like music to my ears.
“Thank you.” She leans slightly into my arm, and the closeness of her sends my heart hammering in my chest. The woman has no idea how entrancing she is, and as she peers up at me, I’m even more awestruck. “But dating in this city has always been a nightmare.”
“Tell me about it,” I agree. “I’ve been to so many singles events that I’m pretty sure I qualify for some kind of punch card reward by now.”
That makes her laugh again. “Ten speed dates and the eleventh is free?”
“Exactly. Though what they don’t tell you is that the free one is usually with someone’s aunt who’s ‘just checking out the scene for her niece.’”
She laughs once more, and it’s officially my favorite sound.
“So,” I say, after we’ve made it a few rounds without me falling on my face, “how’s it been, living with Parker? I imagine he’s a delight in the mornings.”
Her eyes light up with mischief. “Oh my goodness, you have no idea. Did you know he organizes his bathroom by product height? Toothpaste, deodorant, cologne—all arranged like little soldiers.”
“That sounds exactly like him.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “At work, he has this thing where all the sticky notes have to be perfectly aligned on his desk. I once moved one just a quarter inch to the left, and you’d think I’d committed a felony.”
She snorts, a surprisingly endearing sound. “Sounds about right.”
We fall into a comfortable rhythm, both in our skating and our conversation. It feels surprisingly easy, like we’ve been friends for years instead of barely knowing each other. I guess that’s what happens when you share a common tormentor—Parker.
“So, lawyer life treating you well?” I ask.
She tilts her head, considering. “It’s challenging, but I like it. Most days, anyway. The hours can be brutal, but there’s something satisfying about the work itself.” Her eyes meet mine. “Parker says you’re some kind of programming genius?”
I feel my face warm at the unexpected compliment. “He said that? Wow, I’m gonna have to make sure he’s feeling okay.”
“Well, I think his exact words were ‘insufferable coding nerd,’ but I could tell he was impressed.”
“That sounds more like it.” I laugh.
Midway through our circuit, we approach a turn that’s a little sharper than the others. Brittany leans into it, but something goes wrong—maybe a rough patch in the ice or just a misstep. Her arms windmill as she starts to fall backwards.
I react without thinking, my arm shooting out to wrap around her waist. The momentum pulls me forward, and suddenly we’re pressed together, my other hand grabbing her arm to steady us both. For a second, we teeter on the edge of both going down, but then I find my balance, anchoring us.
“Whoa,” I breathe out, suddenly very aware of how close we are. Her hands grip my forearms tightly, her face inches from mine. I can see the individual snowflake patterns on her eyelashes, the subtle freckles across her nose.
“Nice catch,” she says softly, not immediately pulling away. Her breath forms little clouds between us in the cold air. “Guess I should’ve been the one worrying about falling.”
Time seems to stretch between us, the busy rink fading into background noise. Her eyes are the exact same shade of blue as Parker’s, but somehow completely different—warmer, brighter.
“You okay?” I finally ask, reluctantly loosening my grip but not fully letting go.
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, thanks for the save. You’re like a knight in puffy armor.”
I can’t help but laugh.
We start skating again, but something has shifted between us. Our hands brush more frequently now, and neither of us move away. The conversation turns to other topics—favorite movies, books, places in the city—but there’s an undercurrent of awareness flowing between us that wasn’t there before.
