Page 43 of Four More The Merrier

"I swear that patch of ice came out of nowhere," she mutters, gripping my forearms.

A group of kids whizzes past us, executing perfect figure eights. Quinn watches them with mock outrage.

"Show-offs," she calls them. "I bet they've been skating since they could walk."

"You're doing fine for your first time." I guide her forward, keeping my hands hovering near her waist. "Just keep your knees bent and?—"

"If you say 'it's all in the hips' I'm going to smack you." She wobbles again but catches herself. "Those kids are making me look bad."

"They're probably Olympic hopefuls or something."

"Sure, that's what I'll tell myself." Her laugh turns into a surprised gasp as she finally finds her rhythm. "Hey, look! I'm doing it!"

"There you go!" Pride swells in my chest as she glides forward with growing confidence. "You're a natural."

"Don't jinx it." But she's beaming, hair streaming behind her as she picks up speed.

After a few more laps, her teeth start chattering. "Hot chocolate break?"

We make our way to the rinkside cafe, where a massive Christmas tree towers over the tables. The white lights reflect in Quinn's eyes as she wraps her hands around the steaming cup.

"Thanks for bringing me here." She looks up at me through those long lashes. "Even if I made a fool of myself."

"You were perfect." The words slip out before I can stop them.

She sets down her cup, and suddenly the space between us feels charged with electricity.

Her hand comes to rest against my chest, and I can feel my heartbeat thundering beneath her palm. Her lips part slightly asshe leans closer, and I'm drowning in those hazel eyes. The cafe lights cast a soft glow around her hair, making it shimmer like copper. My hand finds her waist, steadying her as she rises on her tiptoes.

"Beau," she whispers, her breath warm against my chin.

I dip my head, closing the distance between us inch by inch. The scent of her vanilla shampoo mingles with the hot chocolate on her breath.

"DECK THE HALLS WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY!"

Quinn jumps back like she's been shocked, nearly knocking over her cup. A group of carolers in Victorian costumes has materialized by the Christmas tree, belting out carols at full volume.

"FA LA LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA!"

"Jesus!" Quinn presses a hand to her chest, laughing nervously. "Where the fuck did they come from?"

"'Tis the season, I guess." I run a hand through my beard, trying to slow my racing heart. The moment has shattered like thin ice.

Quinn tucks her hair behind her ear, cheeks flushed. "They're, uh... enthusiastic."

"Very." I clear my throat. "Maybe we should head back? It's getting late."

"Yeah," she agrees quickly, gathering her scarf. "Early rehearsal tomorrow anyway."

I follow Quinn to her car, watching as she fumbles with her keys in the dim parking lot light. The temperature's dropped even further, and her breath comes out in little white puffs.

She turns the key in the ignition. The engine makes a sound like a dying cat, then nothing.

"No, no, no." She tries again. More awful grinding. "Please don't do this to me again."

"Pop the hood." I move around to the front as she pulls the lever. The ancient metal creaks as I lift it, pulling out my phone for light. One look tells me everything I need to know. "Quinn..."

"Don't say it." She's still turning the key, each attempt weaker than the last. "Please don't say it."

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