Page 69 of Falling Like Snow

He grins. “Isn’t that sort of what we’re doing now?”

“No, we’re recovering,” I say. “There’s a difference.”

“Uh-huh… which is?”

“In one instance, we’re lying here freezing our butts off. In the other, we’re sitting on a bench warming up with a chocolatey drink.”

“True, true… plus, I brought sprinkles,” he adds, grinning up at me. “Festive ones in the shape of snowflakes.”

My eyes lower to his freaking captivating smile. “I love sprinkles.”

He lifts his eyebrows with a teasing expression. “No shit? You don’t say.”

I’m glaring at him, trying to think of a witty comeback, when a voice startles us. “Dude, this is wild!”

We whip our heads in the direction of the nearby sound and find a group of guys from the hockey team skating onto the ice.

“It’s awesome!” Owen says, dropping a puck and hitting it to one of his teammates.

Micah and I spot each other at the same time, and his face breaks into a smile. He skates over, spraying ice as he comes to a stop beside us.

“Didn’t realize you ice-skate,” he says, flashing me that smoldering crooked grin. Asher drops his arms from around me, and I crawl off him and sit.

“Clearly not well.” I gesture at our situation.

“Want some lessons?” he asks, somehow still managing to sound flirtatious.

I glance at Asher, who’s looking everywhere but at me or Micah as he pulls himself into a sitting position. “Maybe some other time.”

“Sure,” Micah says, but he looks crestfallen, like I just rejected a marriage proposal. The guy has probably never been told no before.

I turn to Asher. “Hot chocolate and sprinkles now that our rink has been commandeered?”

Asher shrugs. “Whatever you want to do.”

“Sorry,” Micah says. “We heard someone flooded the square to make a rink. Didn’t realize it was you guys. Or that you’d be here tonight.”

“It’s my own personal Rockefeller Center,” I tell him, making my way to my knees. “Asher made it for me.”

“Yeah?” Micah says to Asher. “That’s cool, dude. This thing’s pretty legit.”

Asher gives him a tight smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Micah grabs my hand and pulls me up. “You want me to help you to the bench?”

“Nah. Asher and I will just trip over each other the whole way. The struggle is half the fun.”

“If you say so…” Micah turns toward his friends, then effortlessly spins back around, reminding me of how hot his athleticism is. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask you… would you maybe want to go to the Show in the Snow with me on Friday?”

I stare at him for a moment, my brain glitching. “B-but you don’t go to town events,” I finally stammer. Is this him asking me out?

“I’d make an exception if I was hanging out with you,” he says.

My cheeks flare. “Um…” I bite my lip. “I don’t know…”

He smirks. “Now who’s playing hard to get?”

Never have I wanted to bury my face in the snow more than I do right now. This would already be an uncomfortable conversation—because saying flirty things like that via text is way less terrifying than doing it in person—but having Asher witness it is ten times worse.