Page 17 of Too Sweet

Then he circles us around again. And again. And again.

Cold air whips around us, but all I see, all I feel, all I care about is the warmth blossoming inside me at this moment.

I’m doing it. I’m really doing it.

Laughing, I tip my head back as far as I dare without throwing myself off balance. The stars above us twinkle like they’re in on this secret. The lights strung around the rink dance in my periphery, their glow an exact match for the effervescent lightness warming me from the inside out.

For every heartache and hardship, we’ve persevered and come out stronger.

For every hurdle we’ve just barely cleared over the few months we’ve had together, we’ve survived and come out steadier.

There’s not a single doubt in my heart or mind that this man loves me to the very core of who I am. I feel it in the way he looks at me. In the way he cares for me. In the way he nurtures my spirit, builds me up, and puts in the work every single day.

“One more minute,” Decker warns.

My thighs are burning, I’m cold down to the very marrow of my bones, and I can feel my heartbeat in my throat. But despite the way my body protests, I don’t want to stop. I could stay out here forever, him and I.

I’ll never forget this night. I’ll never take for granted the way this man loves me so well.

On the final lap, Decker holds my gaze, the question clear in his eyes.

I catch my lip between my teeth, unsure.

“You’ve got this, Siren,” he encourages, giving me one of his rare megawatt smiles.

With a quick exhale and a subtle nod, I consent.

I’ve got this.

And even if I don’t, Decker’s right there. He won’t let me fall.

With the slowest of movements, almost like he’s caressing my palm instead of letting go, he releases me. I have enough momentum that I glide forward several feet. He skates faster, leaving more space between us for me to close all on my own.

Gracelessly, I slam into him to stop. We’re both laughing as we try to stay upright.

“You did it,” he praises, rubbing his cold nose against the length of my jaw. The contact sends a shiver through me, his icy exterior in juxtaposition with my flushed face.

“I did it,” I whisper in disbelief.

Decker guides me over to the bench and helps me sit, then makes quick work of removing my skates. Before he can stand, I scoot forward, wrapping my arms around him and burrowing my face into his neck.

“I loved this,” I confess, sincerity drenching my every word.

“I love you,” he replies. He swaps out his skates and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s get you inside, Siren. It’s late, and you’ve got to be freezing.”

I don’t comment, because I honestly don’t mind. As much as I griped about the weather on our way out here, every single second of this experience was worth it.

On the journey back up to the cabin, I wrap my arms around his bicep. “Do you think we’ll have another chance to come out here this weekend?”

He gives me a satisfied smile. “Possibly.”

“Oh! What if the guys come too?” I wonder if there are enough skates for everyone.

“That’s a less likely scenario,” Decker hedges.

Before I can ask why, he goes on.

“Kylian hates ice-skating. I’m sure he can present a whole diatribe as to why. Locke might be amenable, but he’s in really good shape now and hasn’t had a flare up for weeks.”