She shifted, skating in front of him. “And how would you know that since you haven’t seen me dance yet?”
“Call it intuition. And I have seen the way you move your body.” He waggled his brows.
She rolled her eyes. “Not at all the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?” He gave her a very knowing look.
“Trust me. Sex and dancing aren’t at all the same.”
“I guess I’ll have to watch you dance sometime. Then I’ll draw my own conclusions.”
“You do that.”
They skated for another half hour or so, an exhilarating workout. Then they called it quits and left the ice.
“That was fun. Thanks for taking me,” she said as they started their walk back to Trick’s apartment.
“You’re welcome. You need to get out and play more often.”
They came across a group of kids playing in the snow pack on the sidewalk. One of them recognized Trick, so he stopped to talk with them.
Stella stood back and observed. Trick was a natural with kids. He wasn’t condescending, didn’t act like a superstar. He was just a regular guy around the boys. And when one of the kids hit his buddies with a snowball, Trick got into the middle of all of it, like he was one of them.
She laughed at it, until Trick bundled up a snowball and aimed it in her direction. She shrieked and tried to hide, but he ran her down and smacked her in the back with a soft snowball.
Then it was on, and they found themselves in the middle of a snowball war with the kids. Before long several more kids in the neighborhood joined in. Stella had never laughed so hard as she lofted one snowball after the other. These kids were good, obviously having gotten a lot more practice than either she or Trick. Trick was definitely a target—a rather large one—something he didn’t seem to mind at all. Removing herself from the fray, she took pictures of the major battle, laughing at the same time as one of the kids hit Trick with a snowball to the back of the head.
They finally extricated themselves from the bombardment and said good-bye to the kids, making their way back to his apartment.
“I’m pretty sure one of those snowballs landed inside the back of my coat,” she said as she hung it up, then pulled off her boots. “I’m all wet.”
“But you had fun, didn’t you?”
She still had a smile on her face. “I did. It reminded me of building snow forts with Greta when we were kids.”
“Yeah, my sister and I used to do the same thing. Coffee?” he asked as they made their way into the kitchen.
“Definitely.”
He brewed them each a cup, and took the cream out of the refrigerator for her.
“Thanks.”
He laid his cup down, then went over and turned on the Christmas tree lights before taking a seat on the sofa next to her.
“Looks good there,” he said.
She stared up at the dancing angel, still so surprised he’d thought of her when he’d bought it. She didn’t know what to make of it—or of him. Or of their relationship.
Dammit. There was that word again, the one she so religiously avoided.
“Yeah, it looks good.”
“You and I should spend Christmas together.”
She nearly choked on her sip of coffee. She shifted to face him. “What?”
“You said you weren’t going home, and your parents won’t be coming here. We should spend Christmas together.”
Christmas together? She waited for the panic to clutch her around the throat.
Nothing came. It always did when some guy asked her for anything that felt remotely like a commitment. And spending a holiday together was a commitment. It was a relationship.
But Trick wasn’t just some guy. He was becoming more than that.
She waited again for the terror, the need to end things, to run as far and as fast as she could.
Nothing. Still, she was going to have to handle this whole thing delicately.
“I told you Greta’s coming for Christmas.”
“Yeah. So we’ll all hang out. I’ll cook a turkey. She can adore this awesome tree.”
He made it sound so simple. It wasn’t. Not to her, anyway. “I’ll give it some thought.”
“You do that.”
“Okay, well, I should go.”
“You don’t want to stay?” He moved over and slid his arms around her waist. “I thought we’d have dinner and you might want to hang out. I could cook for you. Then rub your feet later.”
He waggled his brows, the invitation quite clear.
He was almost the perfect man, which meant there had to be something lurking under the exterior. Some bomb he’d drop later to break her heart. She didn’t trust her own instincts, not after the nightmare she’d endured the last time.
She laid her palms on his chest. “Tempting as that sounds, the only time I have to do laundry and grocery shopping and clean my apartment is on the weekend. So, sadly, duty calls.”
He took a step back. “Gotcha. Some other time.”
“Definitely.”
He didn’t even pout when he didn’t get his way or she couldn’t spend time with him.
See? Too perfect.
She gathered her things and put on her coat.
“I ordered a taxi for you,” he said. “Should be outside waiting for you.”
“Thanks.”
He tugged on the lapels of her coat, drawing her toward him so he could kiss her. She fell into the kiss, against the heat of his body as he swept his hands inside her coat.
She could so easily get lost in him, in the way his lips moved over hers, and forget all her rules about not letting her heart get involved. But her steely resolve had protected her all these years, and for a good reason.
She pulled back. “I guess I’ll see you after your game Monday?”
“Yup. Don’t work too hard.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, and that steely resolve melted a little. Inhaling a shaky breath, she moved away from him and grabbed her bag.
He walked her to the door. “Be careful out there.”
“I will. Bye.”
She went downstairs and, just as Trick said, there was a taxi waiting for her. She climbed in and gave the driver her address, then leaned back, already wishing she was still with Trick.
She’d had fun with him the past couple of days. He was sexy, romantic, and fun. A lethal combination. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Normally when she started to feel things for a guy, she knew the next step—end things.