CHAPTER 10

"I can't believe I am doing this," Tristin grumbled unhappily. He was taking his annoyance on the speed laces he was binding together.

"Why? Because I'm asking you to do this with me?" Rory asked. She had wide grin on her face that could not be hindered. He could see that she was cold and yet, her excitement seemed to disperse the chill.

"No," he adamantly said. "It's just... It's just because it's a silly sport. If God wanted me to be on blades, He would've attached them on my feet," he responded.

Rory let out an exasperated sigh at his indignation to indulge her. "Smartass. What do I have to do to get you to hurry up?" she asked, unassuming.

'You don't want to know,' Tristin said to himself, naughty thoughts getting the best of him.

The first few skaters on the ice had set foot on the slick surface. They could hear the blades cutting though the freshly smoothed over ice.

"C'mon!" she pleaded like a five year old.

He wished he had a camera at that moment: her cheeks and her nose were rose red and her pale skin was porcelain white from the cold. His hands itched to grab the scull cap she had on and have her hair blow everywhere.

The running commentary in his brain about a person he thought was a ship passing through the night had become the main attraction in his current fantasy. Her persistent cajoling wanted him to hush her up by crushing her lips against him; something he knew won't fly well between them.

"Are you scared?" Rory taunted him.

"As a matter of fact," he paused for dramatic effect, "I've never ice-skated."

"You never ice-skated," Rory deadpanned her partner. "You serious? You live in a state that's under snow for at least a third of the year."

He returned the stare.

"Oh you deprived child!" she said. The tone of her sarcasm was just begging for a verbal comeback.

" Are you trying to challenge my manhood?" he confronted her, the tease becoming more a point of contention. He tried intimidating her by bringing his face so close to her he might as well have stolen the air she breathed. "Because if you are, I guess I just have to prove you wrong otherwise."

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic," Rory said, rolling her eyes at him, missing the double entendre. "Come on, if a kid can do it, you can, too." She offered her hands to him, palms up, for him to hold on, too. With seriousness, she said, "I promise not to let go of you."

Trust. It was one word he didn't like using because it means so much to him. But somehow, he knew Rory would not squander the value so lightly. He cautiously stood up from the bench and precariously tried to get his balance. He was proud of himself when he didn't topple both of them over.

"That's good. The worst part is over," Rory praised him.

"I think you have to wait and see if I actually get my feet going," he stated. He gingerly took a step towards the rink, his grip tight around Rory's hand. She guided them towards the ice before she turned around and started skating backwards to face him.

"Relax," she whispered, her bright blue eyes soliciting trust from him.

It never occurred to Rory that for once, the man she had always seen as self-sufficient and cocky is actually a vulnerable man afraid to face something totally unnatural to him. She found the awkwardness more human, if not downright sexy, especially from a person that oozed enough of it.

"You're telling me to relax? The mere thought that I can fall flat on my face at any time and crush you along the way is intimidating enough," he said through gritted teeth.

Rory felt guilty and empathetic at his attempts. She rubbed his gloved fingers with her thumb, hoping he would relax. "The less tense you are, the easier it would be on your legs and hips."

"Trust me, relaxing my legs and hips on blades is something I wouldn't put together in the same sentence at this time," he tried to relieve the tension, chuckling at the notion. He was surprised to feel the change when he followed her advice.

"There you go," she cheered him on. After skating a few yards, Rory took her position next to him, holding only one hand. He smiled at her as he got into the rhythm. In silence, they glided on, stealing glances at each other every once in a while.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," he muttered.

"I think so, too!" she proudly exclaimed. She heard giggling at the entrance of the rink and noticed a group of girls looking at them. From the pitch of their voices, Rory deduced that they had their eyes on her companion.

"I think you've developed a fan club over there," Rory teased him.

"You're loco," he chuckled, still clinging to her.

"I swear. Look!" she pointed out. He whipped his head to the side and instead of seeing the group she was pointing at he lost his balance and fell over.

"Toe pick!" Rory laughed out loud. She could see him turn red from his spill. Her delight was not from the fact that he fell but at how adorable he looked on the rink. Snow shavings peppered his jeans and his brown corduroy Sherpa coat. He let out a loud laugh at his luck: a gaggle of girls became his perpetual downfall.

"You're going to pay for this," Tristin said grinning at her.

"How?" she asked.

Tristin playfully reached out and tugged on her coat. She spun around on her skates and unceremoniously fell on top of him.

"I will extract revenge on you when I take you snowboarding," he threatened her. The twinkle in his eye was a promise he intended to keep.

The frost from their breaths mingled. Their eyes met, dueling to see who would blink first. She could feel through the layers of clothing how rapid his heart pounded against his chest. He could see the rapid ticking Rory's pulse throbbed on her neck. Tristin wondered if the sparks flying between them melted the ice they were on top off. Both tried to look away and both failed miserably. Their breathing became more rapid and shallow. A kiss. Like magnets, their lips inched towards each other slowly. Millimeters apart, the bell that warns everyone to get off the ice chimed.

"I think someone's telling us to get off," he said.

Rory, left befuddled, got off of him reluctantly. She helped him get on his feet slowly. Then they skated away in silence.

They returned the boots behind the counter. Their speech was wooden and scripted like they were covering up a lie. Neither one of them wanted to acknowledge the fact that the dynamics between them have changed somehow; now they're trapped in it.

"So, how about that trip to the Empire State building?" he asked on their way out.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Rory mumbled.

Tristin hated uncomfortable silence. He knew the gears in her head were moving hard and fast. It's not that he doesn't want for her to figure out that he is falling fast and hard for her no matter how unintentional it was. A wave of emotion suddenly overcame him. His thoughts on Jessica and how she crept on him came rushing back. The thought that he was basically doing the same thing to Rory and Logan freaked him out.

"Quick, what are the five things that remind you of New York?" he solicited from her.

Snapping out from her trance, Rory looked at Tristin. "What?"

"Five things that remind you of New York," he repeated his question.

"Empire State Building. Central Park. Broadway. Statue of Liberty," she enumerated. "Ooh! Ooh! Breakfast at Tiffany's!"

"Alright, here's the plan," he said. "We're going to try to hit most those places today... at least the ones that I would not mind being caught dead on."

"You're taking me to Tiffany's?" she asked, her mind distracted from what she was thinking of earlier.

"Sure, we're on..." he stopped talking as he noticed a very recognizable blonde coming out of the popular jewelry store with another blonde, someone definitely strikingly beautiful but nonetheless, not Rory.

"What?" Rory asked, stopping when he stopped walking. She tried to get on her tiptoes to see what he's looking at.

"Uh..." he tried to improvise, "We'll start with a carriage ride through Central Park, then go to the Empire State Building. Then we'll go to Tiffany's if we make it before it closes tonight. If you're going to be a good girl, I'll treat you to some great coffee."

Rory jumped up and down excitedly. "You are? Oh my God. The last time I was on a carriage was so long ago, I forgot how fun those things are."

"Are you ready for the finale of the day?" he asked.

She nodded her head eagerly.

"We'll see the Christmas tree at night at Rockefeller before we head on back," he suggested to her trying to cover up his sudden urge to clobber a certain person they are both acquainted with.

"You're the greatest!" she said, wrapping her arms around her neck.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Super."