Page 50 of Flake It Til You Make It

Rocco had been afraid—and also hoping—that Taylor might say that. “You’re not worried about me dragging you down?”

“Not at all.”

“So I guess that’ll be two birds, one stone, then,” Rocco said wryly.

Taylor shoved his hands in his pockets as they approached the stand that rented skates. “I guarantee if we were actually dating, I’d take you ice skating with the secret agenda of making sure I’d need to touch you as much as possible.”

Rocco swallowed hard and tried to focus on the sign that gave the skate rental prices. This was either a very good idea, or a terrible one.

Dipping his head low, Taylor murmured in the vicinity of his ear, “As long as you’re okay with that.”

Rocco nodded because he didn’t want to say there was no way he’dgoat cheeseout of this. Not with anticipation rushing through him in a thrilling wave.

“Well, let’s get some skates then,” Taylor said.

Ten minutes later, they were equipped and heading towards the rink—Taylor with confidence, Rocco with unsteady steps and wobbly knees.

“Just hang onto me,” Taylor said. “We’ll go slow. Careful.”

“But nobody else is going slow,” Rocco pointed out, trying to keep the hysteria out of his voice as he gestured towards the mass of people rotating around the rink, largely as confidently as Taylor seemed to be.

“Don’t care what they’re doing.”

Rocco glanced over at Taylor and felt his knees wobble even more dangerously at the intent look in his dark blue eyes.

“Alright, if you say so,” Rocco said as they approached the ice.

And it was not as bad as it could have been.

Sure, it wasicewhich meant it was inherently slippery and slick and he was only wearing a thin blade of metal that he was meant tobalance on, but Taylor came through.

He balanced Rocco’s unsteadiness and refused to let go of him, and when some teenage kids went racing by, bumping them, he gave them an appropriately intense glare.

“Youaregood at this,” Rocco said as they made their second rotation. “And you were right, it’s actually not soterrible.”

“Maybe you might actually have fun?” The corner of Taylor’s mouth quirked up and his grip didn’t lessen. In fact, it seemed more solid than ever.

To the point of Rocco wondering,even if we’re not actually dating, would you still take me ice skating, to give you the excuse to hold on to me and not let go?

“That might possibly be occurring,” Rocco said, trying to keep a straight face.

But Taylor smiled. “Good.”

They made two more rounds of the rink, and then Rocco tugged his arm. “Hot chocolate,” he insisted, and Taylor led him off the rink, stopping to untie and return their skates before heading towards the refreshment stand.

And who else should they spot there but Steve Mills and Mrs. Gucci Boots?

“Oh, look at how cute you two are,” she cooed as they approached the line to grab cocoa. “You actually went ice skating!”

“That is what people do at a rink,” Rocco said dryly.

“Right, and oh, he’s funny too,” Mrs. Gucci Boots said with an annoyingly high-pitched giggle.

“It’s why I like him,” Taylor said, putting an arm around Rocco’s waist and firmly tugging him closer. “One of many reasons. You ever tried his marzipan latte?”

“What’s that?” she asked.

Steve turned away from the tourist he’d no doubt been attempting to charm and said, “Oh, honey, that’s some weird foreign thing. You wouldn’t want that.”

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