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He pulls me into the admission line. “Thought that was obvious.”
My gaze drifts to the ice rink, then back to him. “So-uh-I can’t skate.” I’d only been one other time. Not even a full lap when I lost my balance, snapped my ankle, which required surgery to repair, and knocked out my two front teeth. But the collision was worse. Another kid’s skate sliced my forearm almost to the bone. I think that’s what traumatized me. It would traumatize any six-year-old.
“I remember,” he tells me, once again, proving he listened to and remembered everything I ever said to him. “But I won’t let you fall.”
I cock my head to the side and narrow my eyes. “You let me fall for you.”
He wraps me tight in his arms and grins. “Can’t catch someone when you’re already falling. You had to catch up. But I’ll never let you hit the ground.”
Did you melt? Too cheesy?
Okay, just me, then. It’s okay. I’ll swoon alone.
By the time we reach the ice, I feel like I will be sick on his skates. If he feels my hesitation, he doesn’t show it. And as soon as my feet hit the slick surface, my feet shuffle like a cartoon character. Just when I fear gravity has won, he spins me, and I crash into his chest. A full minute passes before the dizziness subsides, and I see his cocky smile clearly. Then I realize we’re not standing still. My feet, though stiff and clumsy, glide across the frozen rink in sync with his. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”
A breathy laugh escapes me as my face splits into a wide smile that makes my cheeks hurt. Our time passes quickly, and when I’m done, my legs ache, but I feel happy and exhilarated.
When we leave, I pull him into a few of my favorite shops, excited to check out the spring trends. We get into an argument when I try to purchase a few small items. He wants to pay. He always wants to pay. And while I didn’t know the man who spent ten months out of the year on the road to ensure he could take care of himself and his daughter, I’m aware his bank accounts aren’t endless. Mine aren’t either, but I’ve had parental backup to supplement me. As usual, it’s an argument I don’t win.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I didn’t bring him shopping often.
Before we get back to the vehicle, he tugs me into a cute bistro. We order hot chocolate and sit at a tall table near a window.
“So what next?” I ask him.
“Hold that thought,” he says when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it from his jacket pocket. A giant smile stretches across his mouth, lighting up his entire face. “How about a trip to NYU Langone?”
Lily
His long hair covers his face as he scratches out another note, replacing it with a higher key. I should be helping. It’s my song, after all—my lyrics, my arrangement. But even though the songs came from my heart when I was bleeding out, they feel like his, too—as if these tiny changes are his pain joining mine.
But my mind has been elsewhere for a couple of days. I’m just not ready to ask the question. I’m not even sure what I want to ask.
Liam looks up from the paper, looking amused. “Are we working, or are you going to keep staring?”
“I need a break. Play me something.”
“Thought that’s what we’ve been doing,” he teases.
“No. I mean something else. Something yours.”
He leans back in the buttery soft, black leather armchair with high brows. His big hand covers his mouth for several moments as his eyes grow unfocused. He rubs across his jaw, then meets my eyes, his blues swirling with emotions, memories, and much more than I think I’ll ever understand.
I keep quiet, allowing him the moment he needs. I want him to play his music, but I know better than to push. In my heart, I know he’ll do it. As he’s said many times, he plays for me, even after he stopped playing for everyone.
He leans forward again, repositioning the guitar on his lap, and runs his fingers over the strings. His deep baritone melts across my skin like a physical entity filling the room.
Hush, little girl, dry your eyes
Mistake were meant to be made
It’s how you live, learn, and grow
Until you spread your wings and fly
You’ll face sorrows in this world
Things you won’t understand
