Opening the Cookie Jar had been kind of an exposing experience. He’d made himself wide open for criticism. For judgment and failure. Maybe Reese had a similar wall erected around her love of dancing, although…that didn’t track, since she had a supportive mother. Maybe it had something to do with her father. Or perhaps being a Broadway performer was still relatively new and she didn’t want to jinx herself by getting comfortable. Complacent.
Whatever the reason she didn’t want to talk about her job, Leo would wait for her to tell him herself. They had plenty of time.
If she decided to see him again. Didn’t he promise her they’d take it one day at a time?
Great plan.
One that should have made Leo feel like he skated on thin ice. But…he didn’t. How was he supposed to be anything but optimistic as hell when she smiled over at him, the February breeze blowing a strand of dark blonde hair across her face?
“Are you okay walking or should we grab a cab?” he asked.
“I’m happy walking. I love the city at night.” Their joined hands swung between them. “Besides, I’m a straight shot west on this street. It’s not far.”
“Good. I’ll walk you to the door.”
Did he imagine the way the blood drained out of her face? Or was it just the streetlight hitting her in a certain way. “Oh,” she laughed. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m not letting you walk home alone, Reese,” he said firmly, unsurprised by the protectiveness building in his gut, because what didn’t this girl make him feel? “You don’t have to invite me up. That’s not what it’s about. I just need you safe.”
After a moment, she gave a jerky nod. “Okay. Just to the front door of the building, then. It’s not that I don’t want you to come up. I just have a really early workshop—”
“And tomorrow is Sunday, so that means a matinee performance, in addition to your regular show,” he said, squeezing her hand. “You don’t have to explain.”
This time, when she looked over at him, he couldn’t read her expression. But he couldn’t deny the intuition that he was missing something here. With her. About her. Once again, he reminded himself to be patient. It was right on the tip of his tongue to ask Reese to spend the night at his place, but the last thing he needed to add was pressure.
As badly as he ached to be inside of her again.
The image of those thigh high tights would not leave him alone.
“Bryant Park,” he rasped, jerking his chin in the direction of the landmark to his left. “You’ve probably been here a few times by now.”
“Actually,” she murmured. “I haven’t. Show me?”
Leo steered her into a turn and headed up the wide concrete steps, guiding her into the nearly deserted park. On a cool night in February, the crowd was thinner than usual, save people buying coffee from the vendors that surrounded the giant green. “There’s an ice-skating rink here at Christmas.”
Reese sent him an interested look. “Do you skate?”
“Not for a million dollars,” he answered without hesitating. “They never have my shoe size, anyway. It’s always been my get out of jail free card.” They stopped at the edge of the sprawling lawn, the trees whispering in the wind behind them, the sounds of city traffic humming on all sides. “I bet you’re a great skater, aren’t you?”
“I’ve made it my mission in life to be good at anything that requires me to wear a sparkly costume.” Her laugh turned into a wince. “I just had a flashback to a high school field trip.”
“Oh God. That’s never good.”
“You’re going to end the date if I tell you this.”
Leo’s head fell back on a laugh. “Now I really need to know.”
She visibly braced for the reveal. “The entire freshman class went ice skating. It was an end of the year trip. Parental chaperones and everything. Loud bus rides. I was trying to get Drake Millhouse’s attention. So I…oh lord. I wore a white, sequined skating dress under my street clothes and executed a big costume change in the bathroom when we got to the rink. I really thought a bunch of fourteen-year-olds were going to cheer me on.”
“What did they do instead?” Leo asked.
“They roasted me.” She shook her head. “I can’t even blame them.”
Leo was so glad to be talking about her. She had no problem talking about her past. It was only the present where she seemed to throw up roadblocks. “Were you an overachiever in high school?”
“Yes. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been. Being second or third best wouldn’t hurt so bad now.” She seemed to catch herself, snapping her mouth shut. Looking thoughtful, she stared out at the giant lawn. “Hey, Leo. Maybe instead of talking to you about my dancing…I could show you?”