Nell stared at Callen as he led her around the rink, his grip steady and sure, his touch warm even through their gloves. She still couldn't quite believe he was actually here.
Callen wasn't the type to go ice skating. He wasn't the type to indulge in holiday outings just for the sake of it. And yet, here he was. With her. Holding her hand.
It was almost too much to process.
She'd had a crush on him for years. A ridiculous, persistent, impossible crush that she had long since buried because Callen wasn't someone she could have. He was out of reach, unknowable in some ways, always keeping a careful distance from everyone—including her.
So she had stuffed her feelings away, done what she always did when she was younger—ignored the boy she liked, ignored the feelings that could actually break her heart. She had been careful, never letting herself get too close because wanting something you couldn't have was painful.
And yet, here she was.
Seemingly the sole focus of his attention.
It was exhilarating. And terrifying.
She felt breathless as they moved across the ice, not because of the cold or the challenge of skating, but because Callen's eyes would flick toward her, checking in, making sure she was steady. Because every time she wobbled, he caught her without hesitation. Because this moment, fleeting as it was, felt different.
She had no idea what it meant. Maybe it didn't mean anything.
But as Callen guided her in another slow loop around the rink, she let herself pretend, just for tonight, that it did.