It's still all I can do to stare at them, taking in the gleam of the boots, clean and unscuffed, the blades shining in the light. I can already picture them wearing them, cutting through the ice, kicking up into a spin and landing clean and smooth.

I want to touch them, but I don't yet, afraid the oil on my skin will blemish them too soon.

Instead, I turn to Derek. He's grinning, clearly pleased with himself and I don't even think before launching myself at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and burying my face against his neck. "Thank you. Oh my God, thank you. They're amazing. I can't even imagine how much you spent, but God, Derek."