Page 81 of Fake Out Hearts

He laughs and shakes his head, then comes chasing after me. I try to keep my momentum and the distance, but with his powerful, muscled legs, it only takes a few strides for him to catch me. When he does, he playfully slaps my ass on his way by.

“Tag, you’re it,” he says and zooms away. The other skaters around us are watching, but I don’t care. I peel around a couple in front of me and chase after him, and he must be feeling sorry for me or something because he seems to intentionally slow down enough that I can catch him.

I’m just reaching out to slap his ass in return when he jukes at the last second, sending me sailing right past him. I nearly grab the behind of someone I don’t know instead, and when I circle around the edge of the pond, I find him skating behind me with a bright red face from laughing so hard. But we’ll see who gets the last laugh.

He skates up next to me and offers me his hand again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but that was hilarious. Would’ve only been funnier if you’d actually grabbed someone.”

“Somehow, I don’t think the innocent bystander would agree.”

“Probably not. But I’ve got to give you props, you’re a better skater than I would’ve guessed from how this started.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.”

Theo’s emerald eyes flash as he squeezes my hand. “It was definitely a compliment. I guess there really is a lot of similarity between dancing and skating.”

“You didn’t believe me?”

“Not really,” he says and laughs. “I know both require a lot of skill and coordination, but I just didn’t really see the link until I saw you zipping around the ice like it was nothing. You’re a natural.”

“NowthatI’ll take as a compliment, especially coming from the professional skater,” I say, and Theo pulls on my hand to spin me around and into his arms. I almost tip over, but he holds me tight against his chest as we coast to a stop in the middle of the ice. Thankfully, the other skaters pass us without running us over.

“What are you doing?” I ask with a little laugh, my nerves fraying. The only time I like being the center of attention is when I’m on the dance floor.

“Care to dance?”

My heart thuds in my throat. “What? Seriously? Right now?”

“Yes, seriously, and yes, right now.”

“But we’re on the ice.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Hard to argue with such sound logic,” I tease, and Theo laughs.

“Are you up for the challenge?”

It’s not really me I’m worried about as much as it is him. I’ve seen his dancing, and it’s not the greatest even without skates and ice underneath him. But we’re here to have fun and help him fall in love with skating again, so if that’s what he wants, I’ll do it.

“Challenge accepted,” I say, and he nods with a warm smile before he flings me away with one arm, sending me spinning like a ballerina until our linked arms extend all the way and I jerk to a stop. It’s not the most graceful move, but people around us start clapping, so it must have looked purposeful.

I glance over at him, unsure what he’s up to, but he just wiggles his brows at me, then pulls me back into him. Our handslink in a classic dance pose, and my free hand rests on his shoulder while his wraps around my lower back.

“Ready?” he asks, and I nod, so he takes one stride to his right, and I match his step. Then he moves to the left and back again, and we float across the frozen surface like we’re in a production of Beauty and the Beast on ice. The small crowd watching us claps again, and I realize that it’s probably because at least some of the people recognize Theo.

“I don’t know how it’s possible, but you’re much more fluid on the ice than you are on solid ground,” I say.

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that. My mom used to say that I should’ve been born on the ice because I was always so much more at home on it.”

“When did you first learn to skate?”

“I can’t remember,” Theo says, shaking his head before staring off into the distance to think. “The first time that comes to mind was when I was around five. My dad took me out to a pond a lot like this one, but way smaller.”

“Was John a good skater too?”

Theo smiles at me. “Where do you think I learned it from?”

“I figured it must run in the family. Did he play hockey when he was younger?”

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