Page 50 of The Upside of Falling
“Oh my God, don’t laugh,” she squeaks, making me laugh again. “Colby, stop it. My leggings are very thin, and I’ll have a frozen ass all night if I land on that ice.”
I can’t hold back the chuckle that sneaks out. “We can’t have a frozen ass, can we? Although warming it up wouldn’t be a hardship.”
With sass dripping from her, she replies, “Like I said, something you could have done on the couch.”
We make another pass around the rink. Rory’s control is not getting any better, but I’m loving how close she is, how tight she’s hanging onto me.
“How about we get your mind off skating, because you might be focusing too much.”
“Or I’m not focusing enough,” she counters. “What is that godforsaken cologne you use, and why does it smell so good?”
“Keep saying things like that”—I laugh—“and see where it gets you.”
“Stop laughing.” She shakes, her balance being thrown back and forth. “But seriously, the cologne. It’s got to have some kind of pheromones in it, because I feel like a feral cat in heat when you’re around, sucking down that smell.”
“A feral cat?” Humor consumes me. “You took it to that level, huh?”
“I did, and I’m not ashamed.” She waves her arm out to the side, trying to balance herself. “We are so going to The Skirted Heifer.”
“Hey now, we haven’t decided on that yet, and to my knowledge, you said you had experience on the ice.”
“I thought I did. This is some kind of trickery ice, and I also blame the wind.”
“There is no wind.”
She grips my forearm. “Want to be a pal, Colby? Admit that there’s wind.”
Laughing again, the sound becoming more and more familiar on my ears, I deadpan, “Whoa, this wind is a real bitch. Maybe we should think about ending our passes over the ice.”
“You’re such a good man.”
I feel like a good man when I’m with her, and the feeling is foreign. But welcome.
* * *
“Admit it, you like these burgers better.”
I avoid licking my fingers and instead, wipe them off with a napkin. “So you can gloat until the end of time?”
“Exactly.” She pops a fry in her mouth.
I shake my head, humor in my every move. “Not going to happen.”
“Oh, you’re super stubborn, aren’t you?”
“Only when I want to be.” I wipe my mouth and eat another fry, savoring the bold, not-so-healthy-for-you flavors. The Air Force Academy keeps us fed with meals that follow the basic nutritional guidelines. I don’t have much time to search out any other food during the school year, so when I get to treat myself, I enjoy the moment.
“Would you consider this our second or fourth date?” she asks, looking at me with a mix of curiosity and humor in her gaze.
“Why, do you have a quota you have to reach before you move forward?”
“No, just curious. Technically, our first meeting doesn’t count, bowling could be considered a date by mistake, there was Garden of the Gods, which didn’t end well, then we had dinner at my place and now tonight. That could be counted as four.”
“What about our letters?” I ask, joining in on the fun. “Those could be considered dates. They were intimate, we talked, and sometimes I drank water while reading them, which could be considered a meal.”
“Oh, good point. I definitely ate dinner while reading your letters. Wow, look at us, racking up all the dates and we didn’t even realize it.”
“Practically newlyweds,” I tease but then grow serious. “I will tell you this, Rory.” Unable to stop myself, I reach across and stroke her soft cheek. “You’re the only girl who’s ever made my heart skip a beat, that’s for damn sure.”
