“Really.”

“Really. We’ve been trying to tell him that for years. I mean, you shouldn’t be on that rink wearing skates, but it’s not the end of the world. It’s not like you barged in during a game.”

“It seems like I have this habit of getting yelled at by the rink police,” I said.

“Rink police? Is that what you call us?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Isn’t that the right term?”

“Not exactly. But don’t worry. You didn’t even make it around the rink once, so I don’t think you did that much damage.” He rested his chin on his hockey stick and smiled at me. “We’ll go easy on you this time.”

How could I resist someone who looked at me like that? He was absolutely, extremely handsome. “Thanks. So. Anything going on here? Like a broomball game?” I asked.

“Nah. You just missed a pickup hockey game with some friends. Nothing special. Although my brother made a great save.”

“Save?”

“He’s a goalie. Goalies are strange. Did you know that? They’re obsessed.”

“And…this is your brother you’re talking about?” I asked.

“Yeah. And he’s even crazier than most goalies. Which means he’s way over the top.” Sean laughed. “He already took off for work, but you’ll meet him sometime, and then you’ll see what I mean.”

Ooh! This sounded promising. He was actually talking about me meeting his brother. That implied meeting the rest of his family. His parents.

Wait, I wasn’t ready for that. We’d barely just met.

Quit getting carried away, I told myself. So far you’re just friends, or vague acquaintances. Flirt. Think of a way to flirt. Do what Crystal or Emma would do.

It was hard to think of a way to look sexy or attractive when I knew my nose was red from the cold, my face was almost completely covered by a striped scarf, and if my lips weren’t chapped it was a miracle.

While Sean skated around with Brett for a minute, I quickly fished my strawberry lip balm out of my pocket and ran it across my lips a few dozen times, hoping at least a tiny bit would sink in and last for the next ten minutes.

While I was doing that, my cell phone started to ring. I fumbled for it in my jacket pocket, then nearly dropped it because I was wearing my mittens. “Hey, Emma,” I said as I finally answered it. “It’s really strange you called right now because I was just thinking of you.”

“You were?” Emma asked.

“You must have sensed it,” I told her.

“Actually, what I sensed was that I have no idea what to do here. See, I really wanted to invite Cameron to the cabin. So I was about to, you know, but then Mike called and he’s like, can we get back together because I really, really missed you over Christmas.” Emma went on for a few more minutes, describing the complicated situation.

“So, what are you going to do?” I asked.

“That’s the thing. I really don’t know. I mean, obviously I still have feelings for Mike, but then Cameron’s so sweet, and he gave me that bracelet for Christmas, and I know he thinks I’m going to invite him because I’ve been talking about it.”

I would kill to have those kinds of problems. Instead, there I was, chilled to the bone, trying to initiate at least one conversation with a guy who I barely knew. Which reminded me—I’d better get back to work.

“Emma—I can’t really talk right now,” I said as Sean skated back toward me. “Can I call you later?”

“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “But I really don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out,” I told her. “Don’t worry!” I clicked off my phone. “That was my friend Emma,” I explained to Sean. “Her nickname is Emma Dilemma because everything’s a big crisis for her.”

I wanted to say: Speaking of a crisis…we’re planning this weekend. It’s in about a month. I’ve committed to bringing a date. Emma has two possible dates, while I seem to have none. Wouldn’t you love to come with me?

“So, are there, ah, lessons or classes or something?” I asked instead.

Sean smiled. “In broomball?”

“Sure. That, or skating in general.”

“I don’t know. I mean, sure, probably—for kids. That’s what you mean, right? For Brett here?”

“Uh…sure.” I smiled. “For Brett.”

We both knew they were for me, but he was nice enough not to tease me.

“I could, you know. Show him a few things.”

“Really?” My voice squeaked as I said that, and I cringed at the sound of my inner flirt. She needed practice. Badly.

“Should I get him?” I asked, in a more normal tone. I looked around and saw Brett sitting on the side of the lake, on a snow bank, molding shapes with the snow. He seemed safe there, but I’d have to keep a close eye on him. That boy could get into trouble in seconds, even if he would be slowed down by his skates.

Fortunately Gretchen had insisted on making him wear a bicycle helmet, so at least I didn’t have to worry about him cracking his head open on the ice.

“Well, maybe it would be easier if I showed you first,” Sean said.

“Oh. Oh?” I said.

Man, did I need to work on this talking-to-boys thing. I sounded like an idiot.

Sean took off his hockey gloves and got rid of his stick and helmet. “What do you want to know?” he asked.

“Well…the most important thing I can’t do is stop,” I said.

“Yeah. I noticed that.” He grinned as he came over and put his hands on my waist. Just like the last time when he’d done this, I could feel his hands were warm. “Watch my skates,” Sean said. “Ready?” He stopped so suddenly that he had to grab me and keep me from falling over. “You have to push against the outer edge of your skate blade. Let it catch the ice.”

“Okay. I hear what you’re saying, but I still don’t get it,” I said.

We skated back and forth in front of Brett, so I could keep an eye on him. Sean patiently showed me how to turn on my skates, and what angle I needed to use in order to push the blade away from me and have it catch the ice and therefore stop. It was sort of like skiing, but more scary because we were on the ice. I had this urge to tell Sean that he could show me how to stop, but that I wasn’t going to stop.

“Watch me again,” he said, and he skated in what must have been slow motion for him, to demonstrate how it was done. “Okay, your turn,” he said.

I couldn’t wait until we were done and I could call Emma back and tell her about this private lesson. She would die. If I didn’t die first.

Wait a second, I thought as I tried to push off with my skate. Speaking of dying. I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. “Maybe I—maybe I should get going,” I said.

“Really?” Sean looked disappointed, which I took as a good sign.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Come on, stay,” he urged. “You’re starting to get it! Plus, this is fun.”

“The thing is…my feet. I actually can’t feel my toes exactly.” Somehow I hadn’t noticed this fact in all the time I’d been there, but it was suddenly very true, and very painful. I hadn’t felt cold, but now my extremities seemed like they were about to fall off.

“I’ll get Brett, you go inside,” Sean said. “Now. Hurry up.”

I nodded and sort of staggered up the wooden ramp to the building. Inside, the heater was blowing at full blast and I sat on a bench, shivering.

Sean and Brett came in and Sean crouched down in front of both of us. “You guys gonna be okay?” He started to unlace my skates, then Brett’s. “I’m off in like ten minutes. Can you wait for me? Then I can drive you guys home.”

“You can…come for lunch,” I said between chattering teeth.

“Sounds good. Put your feet right there.” He pointed to a heating vent in the floor. “Don’t move them until I get back.”

“So, how were the hockey lessons?” Gretchen asked when we walked into the house. She was sitting on the sofa with her laptop computer.

“The what?” Sean replied.

I coughed and then cleared my throat. It wasn’t such a big lie I’d told, but I definitely didn’t want Gretchen to start harping on me about how I had to be more honest with her. “Brett’s hockey class,” I said. “See, I thought there was a class. But I guess I read the sheet wrong.”