Bennett calls in the late morning, worried about me getting stuck in the storm yesterday, but I assure him that I’m fine and should be home later today now that the city streets have been plowed. We talk for a while, and when I hear another knock, it’s then that we say our goodbyes and hang up.

As I open the door, Declan walks right in, looking more put together than me in his tailored suit, white button-up left open at the neck, and no tie.

“What, no breaking and entering today?” I say, my words laced with the remaining irritation from earlier.

“I left the key on your coffee table last night,” he responds as he walks over to the food cart. “You haven’t touched anything.”

“I don’t need you catering to me, assuming you know what I like to eat or that it’s your right to even make assumptions about me,” I snap while I walk into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

“So, we’re back to steely-bitch Nina?”

Turning to look at him, I say, “I’m going to have a cup of tea and then I’d like my car to be ready so I can go home.”

“It’s still snowing.”

“The plows already came through.”

He walks over to the kitchen and stands by the bar, asking, “What happened to you this morning? I woke up and you were gone.”

“Your ego bruised?” I say with a condescending grin that pisses him off.

Rounding the bar, he backs me against the countertop, and hisses, “Now it’s time for you to cut the shit.” The kettle starts to squeal, and before I can turn to get it, he reaches over and slams it on the other burner, startling me, and flips the knob off. Caging me in with his arms, his tone is hard when he says, “Your games are starting to piss me off, and I don’t like being played.”

“And what about your games, Declan? The ones you’ve been playing since the night I met you?”

“Did I not apologize to you?” he questions. “Don’t forget that you came to me last night.”

“Moment of weakness. Won’t happen again. So if you were hoping—”

“God, you’re fucking aggravating.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” I say as I move to push him back, and when he keeps his stance and doesn’t budge, I bark, “Let me out.”

“No.”

Pushing my hands against his hardened chest, I get pissed. “I’m serious, Declan. Back up!”

“No.”

“Let me go!”

“Not until you stop bullshitting me. Stop lying, and tell me why you came to me last night.”

Pressing my chest against his, I narrow my eyes, saying, “I already told you. Moment of weakness.”

He grabs me above the elbows, biting down hard before saying, “And I told you not to lie.”

I fist my hands, jerking my body away from him, and he lets go of me. He stays back while I walk across the room, putting space between us, and go over to the windows.

“You think I get off on encroaching on a married woman?” he asks.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I keep my back to him.

“You think I’m an asshole?” he continues. “Join the club. I’m a fucking ass, but I can’t help how you make me feel when you’re around.”

I can feel the heat of him as he moves in behind me. His hands find my shoulders, and he gently tugs to turn me to face him, but I cast my eyes downward.

“Tell me I’m not alone here, or tell me I am because the moment I think I can read you, you flip on me.” When I look up at him, his eyes hold hope in my response. “Tell me why you came to me last night.”

“Because . . .” I begin, but let it linger.

“Tell me.”

“Because I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Why?”

“Declan . . .” I hesitate.

“Why, Nina?”

Lowering my head, my voice cracks perfectly when I say, “Because I’m lonely.” He runs his hands from my shoulders, up my neck, and to my cheeks, angling me up to him. As I look into his eyes, I add, “Whether he’s here or not, I’m lonely.”

“And when I’m here?” he questions.

“I don’t feel so alone.”

He releases a breath and drops his forehead to mine as I grip my hands around his wrists.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I was a dick to you yesterday.”

“I wasn’t very nice either.”

He lifts his head, telling me, “Don’t leave. Stay. Let me make it up to you.”

“I can’t. I need to go home.”

“Why?”

With a light laugh, I say, “Well, for one, I need to change into some clean clothes.”

“So go home and change. I’ll pick you up.”

“What are we gonna do?” I ask.

“When’s the last time you had any fun?” I shrug my shoulders and he says, “So let’s have some fun.”

A COUPLE HOURS later, I’m back home. Declan called a little bit ago, saying he was on his way and to be sure I was dressed warm. So I’ve made sure to comply since the temperatures are no less than frigid as the snow continues to fall.

When the doorman calls to let me know Declan is here, I grab my wool coat, scarf, gloves, and knit hat. I see Declan standing in the lobby as the elevator doors open, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him dressed down in a pair of dark wash jeans and grey sweater under his black wool coat. He looks sharp, and when he turns towards me, his smile grows.

“You ready?” he asks as we walk towards each other.

“I’m not sure,” I respond warily. “I don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Come on.”

I follow him out the front doors and see his car parked along the street, but he leads me in the opposite direction.

“We’re not driving?”

“No.”

I slip on my ivory knit hat and wrap my scarf a couple more times around my neck while he watches with a smile and then holds his hand out for me. I don’t take it at the risk of someone seeing me, so when I begin to walk, he places his hand on the small of my back as he leads us across the street to Millennium Park.

“You know it’s closed, right?” I ask when he leads us to the ice rink. “The snow’s too thick.”

“It’s closed for everyone in the city, but you.”

“What?”

“Mr. McKinnon,” a young man greets as we approach the rink.

“Walter, thanks for doing this,” Declan says as they shake hands.

“Any time, man,” he responds and then looks at me, asking, “You ready?”

“We’re skating?”

Declan laughs, and Walter says, “That’s the deal we made. You ever been?”

Slightly embarrassed, I tell him, “Actually . . . no. I haven’t.”

“Never?” Declan asks, and when I shake my head, he says, “But you live here in the park.” When I shrug my shoulders, he jokes, “This oughta be fun,” and I smile at his mischievous grin.

After we grab our skates, Walter opens the gate to the rink, and I grab ahold of the metal railing as Declan steps out onto the ice with ease.

“Take my hand,” he instructs, seeing my nervousness.

“This is embarrassing,” I tell him.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“You’re always so uptight, Nina,” he says. “Come on, take my hand.”

“I’m gonna fall on my ass.”

He glides over to me, holding out both of his hands, and tells me, “Let go of the railing and take my hands.”

Placing one hand in his, I step onto the ice before letting go of the railing and giving him my other hand. It doesn’t take but a second before my balance falters, and I fall into his chest. He grips my waist, laughing, and says, “Relax. You’re too stiff.”

“It’s freezing out here, and you’ve got me on ice. I can’t relax,” I grumble.

“Stop bitching.” He then takes my hands again and begins skating backwards while gliding me forward. “Try moving your feet.”

“Uh uh. I’ll fall.”

With a grin on his face, he asks, “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Are you serious? I could ask you the same question.”

“Just for today, why don’t you try trusting me?”

As he continues to hold my hands and pull me around the rink while he skates backwards with total control, I question, “Is that what you like? Having someone that just obeys you and never voices their opinion?”