Meghan’s P.O.V.
The cold air stung my cheeks as I stumbled on the ice for what felt like the hundredth time. My hands instinctively reached out, and Blade was there, steady as always, his arm wrapped securely around my waist.
“Easy there, Bambi,” he teased, his grin as cocky as ever.
“Don’t call me that,” I shot back, gripping his jacket to steady myself.
“And if you keep smirking, I’m taking you down with me.”
“Oh, I’d love to see you try,” Blade said, laughter in his voice.
“But let’s not test your skating skills—or lack thereof.”
“Keep talking,” I muttered, shifting my weight.
“I’ll let go and see how well you handle skating with a busted knee.”
“Feisty,” he said, pulling me closer.
“I like it.”
As if to prove my point, I made a show of pushing away from him, my movements
