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He pops my trunk and points to the bed. “Have a seat.”

With my feet dangling over the edge, I watch as he carefully laces up each skate. He doesn’t say much which is unusual for him, and he kind of seems nervous.

“Are you okay?” I finally ask as he removes the blade guards and takes a couple of steps over the verge with me in his arms.

Setting me down on the ice, he joins me as we glide out into the vast open space. There’s no one around other than fir trees and lights from surrounding buildings, but I can tell people have been skating earlier since there are blade marks crisscrossing all over.

“I’m good. Even better since you texted me to say you got it.”

“Yeah, hopefully, I’ll have a confirmed date soon, and I can start pulling my weight.” I nudge my shoulder into him, and he slides behind, wrapping me in his arms. His nose has turned slightly pink in the cold air, and I reach up and rub it with my glove.

Smiling down at me, he kisses my forehead. “You never have to worry about money. I told you that.”

“Thank you.”

Turning so he’s now skating backwards, he takes both of my hands in his. “You’re definitely steadier.”

“I have a good teacher.”

He smiles and looks up at the clear night sky. “They’re all out tonight.”

We come to a stop in the middle of the huge lake. “They are.”

“They’re aligned,” he whispers, and I’m not sure if it’s to himself or to me.

I squeeze his hand tighter. “Aligned?”

“Yeah, they’re all here. There’s even a full moon.”

I inhale a deep breath.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I say, a cheeky smile on my lips.

“Fucking howl.”

I push my bottom lip out. “Why not?”

“Because it will ruin the moment.”

My brows knit together. “What mom?—”

“This.” Keeping his sparkling turquoise eyes on mine, Zach slowly drops to one knee, holding one hand in mine and sliding his other into the pocket of his long black coat.

“Zach, what are you doi?—”

“Shhh.” He brings his pointer finger to his lips, and I see a tiny black velvet box buried in his palm.

“Can you keep yourself upright for a few seconds?” he asks in a breathy voice.

I nod, the words dying on my tongue.

Taking his other hand from mine, he hovers it over the lid of the box.

“Luna Rose Johnson. My Pocket Rocket. The woman who gives me more shit than anyone I’ve ever met. The woman who tells me just like it is. You drive me to the point of insanity sometimes.”

I sniffle a laugh, my swirling hair getting caught in the dampness of my cheeks.