Disloyalty

- Anticipation -

"You okay back there?" Andrew asked, his voice teasing. "You look like you're walking to your doom."

"I can't ice skate," I muttered, glaring at the snowy path ahead.

He chuckled, his voice rich and maddeningly smooth. "Oh, this is going to be fun. You falling flat on your ass might be the highlight of my day."

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. "You're supposed to be supportive, not plotting my downfall."

 I groaned, hiding my grin as we reached the rink. It was picturesque, surrounded by snow-dusted trees with the ice gleaming under the soft winter sun.

 Charlotte and my mum were already lacing up their skates, looking like pros who'd been doing this their whole lives. Meanwhile, I was staring at the ice like it was the enemy.

Andrew handed me a pair of skates, leaning closer as he did. "Don't worry. I'll catch you if you fall."

I snorted, pulling on the skates. "I don't need catching. I've got great reflexes."

"Sure you do," he said, the grin on his face practically illegal.

The moment my feet hit the ice, I realized I'd lied. Reflexes? Nonexistent. Balance? Laughable. Dignity? Hanging by a thread.

I wobbled immediately, arms flailing as I tried not to go down. Andrew was at my side in a second, his hands catching me by the waist and pulling me upright.

"Reflexes, huh?" he said, his breath warm against my ear.

I glared at him, though I was clinging to his arms like a lifeline. "Shut up."

He laughed, steadying me as I tried to find some semblance of balance. His hands stayed on my waist, firm and warm, and I couldn't help but notice how close we were.

"You know," he said, his voice dropping a little, "this is a great excuse to get close to you"

his hands traced the sides of my hips secretly enough for no one to notice and my breath got caught in my throat.

"absolutely not" I said trying to twist away but only managing to make us both wobble.

He caught me again, "you're useless."

And he did. Too well. His hands were firm, his body steady against mine, and I couldn't help but feel a little too aware of every single point of contact.

"Stop smirking," I said, trying to focus on skating and not on how good he smelled.

"I'm not smirking," he said, smirking harder.

We moved slowly around the rink, with Andrew keeping me upright every time I threatened to topple over. At one point, I nearly face-planted, and instead of helping like a normal person, he burst out laughing, a sight that was rare. 

"Glad you find this so entertaining," I said, glaring up at him from where I was clinging to the edge of the rink.

"Oh, come on," he said, pulling me back upright. "You've got to admit, you're terrible at this."

"Thanks for the support," I muttered, but I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"Tell you what," he said, leaning in closer. "If you can make it around the rink without falling, I'll buy you a drink tonight."

"And if I don't?" I asked.

His smirk turned wicked. "Then you owe me one."

I didn't trust myself to respond, so I focused on trying to stay upright as we made our way around the ice. Of course, I nearly took us both out twice, and every time he caught me, his hands seemed to linger a little longer than necessary.