“So, you played hockey?” Cassidy asked.
Liam found it impressive that she could carry on a conversation while trying not to lose her balance.
“I did,” Liam confirmed, navigating a backwards turn, pulling Cassidy along with him.
“Jackson, too?” Cassidy wobbled forward, nearly losing her footing.
“Zach and Jackson,” Liam replied, steadying her.
Cassidy tilted her head thoughtfully. “Jackson looks like a hockey player,” she decided.
Liam laughed at her unexpected comment. “Oh yeah? How so?”
“He’s the quiet type. You just know he’d rather solve things with his fists than talk it out.”
Liam chuckled. It seemed Cassidy understood her brother pretty well.
“What about you? Did you play any sports?” Liam turned, letting go of her hands for a moment so they skated side by side instead of face to face. “Is this okay?” he asked, noting Cassidy’s struggle to keep her balance.
She didn’t answer; she was too busy concentrating now, and Liam knew she’d fall any second.
Liam fell in step behind her. His hands slid gently to her waist, fingers curling around her coat. “Or how about this? Is this better?”
She let out a breathy laugh, her body relaxing ever so slightly against his. “Yeah,” she said. “This is better.”
They skated like that for a few moments. Their movements in sync. The world narrowed to just the two of them. Liam heard the ice scraping under their blades, felt the wind blow across his face and the heat of Cassidy’s skin under his fingertips.
He tried to focus on his breathing, the rhythm of their skates, and not on how much he never wanted to let go.
“As to your other question…” Her voice brought him back. “No, I didn’t play sports. I took dance—mostly jazz and hip-hop. A little ballet to make my grand-maman happy.” Her voice went soft at the mention. “But most of my time I spent with her doing puzzles, reading books… quieter stuff like that. Which suited my brother, Julian, and me just fine.”
Liam smiled, picturing it. Cassidy in a tutu, probably talking a mile a minute. “Let me guess,” he said. “You choreographed your own routines.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “Maybe. And maybe they involved a lot of dramatic jazz hands.”
He chuckled, but the image stuck with him, warm and a little bittersweet.
Because it was so different from his own childhood, where laughter came easily, sure, but so did noise and chaos. Siblings fighting over the last cookie, his mom hollering for them to get their boots off the table, his dad wrestling them into snow gear for skating on the lake. A house that had always felt full and loud.
Cassidy’s stories felt softer, quieter, edged with a loneliness she didn’t quite say out loud. A girl who had learned to make her own joy, who had clung to the light even after the world had tried to dim it.
And maybe that was what pulled him in the most.
“Tell me more about your brother,” he said gently, because he wanted to know everything about her—about the people who made her who she was, about the family she missed, about the soft, hidden parts of her she didn’t always let the world see.
Cassidy smiled. Liam could hear it in her voice. “Julian’s great. He’s really my best friend. After our parents died, we leaned on each other. I mean, we’ve always been close, but that changed things. Then after everything fell apart in Paris with Jean-Paul, Julian really wanted me to stay in New York. He and his husband own a patisserie there—they’re brilliant at what they do. And I loved working with them, but the fast-paced city lifestyle? I was kind of over it. I wanted something different. Something for myself. The Midwest always felt like home, even though I hadn’t lived here in years.”
“Well, for what it’s worth… I’m glad you came back.”
“Me too. But I have to say… ice skating looks way more fun on TV. My ankles are killing me, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to take you down yet.”
Liam laughed. “You want to head back?”
“I do. I really do.”
Liam guided her off the rink, his hand steady on her back as they stepped carefully across the frosty edge, the blades of their skates clicking softly on the ice before they reached the snow-dusted path.
He didn’t want the morning to end. Honestly, he could get used to starting every day with Cassidy—making her laugh, hearing her stories, drinking in those quiet moments when her eyes softened just for him.
