Heat crept into my face even though we'd done considerably more than kiss. "Morning."
His gaze dropped briefly before returning to my face. "How are your legs?"
I narrowed my eyes. "You knew this was going to happen."
A grin appeared immediately. "I might have suspected."
"I feel personally betrayed by several muscle groups."
His grin widened. "Yesterday, you informed me that skating wasn't that hard."
"Yesterday I was a fool."
A laugh escaped him. "You'll survive."
"Easy for you to say. You were born with skates attached to your feet."
"That's not how hockey works."
"It's the only explanation I have."
I slid into a chair at the table. A minute later, he set a mug and a plate loaded with bacon, toast, and eggs in front of me.
I wrapped my hands around the mug and took a sip. Exactly the right amount of cream. My eyes lifted to his. "You remembered."
He shrugged like it wasn't worth mentioning.
I'd noticed that about him. Not the remembering. The way he acted as though remembering wasn't anything special. As though paying attention came as naturally as breathing.
He got his breakfast and took the seat across from me. "Those socks warm enough?"
I looked down. "They're socks."
"They're thin."
I sighed dramatically and reached for a piece of toast. "I survived foster care. I think I can handle a pair of socks."
His expression softened for just a second before he looked away. "That's not really the argument you think it is."
That did something to me, because he said it like the idea of me having to survive anything bothered him.
The conversation drifted to easier things after that. The bakery we'd visited. Whether my legs would still work tomorrow. How much snow had fallen overnight. For a while, it felt easy to pretend we had all the time in the world.
"I saw something at Sugar & Spice the other day."
I looked up. "The café?"
He nodded. "There was a notice on the community board. The senior care facility is looking for volunteers today."
That wasn't what I'd expected him to say. "What kind of volunteers?"
"They need help with activities, serving refreshments, and spending time with residents. Things like that."
I tore off a piece of toast and thought about it. "Have you done that before?" I asked.
"A few times." His answer wasn't surprising.
Neither was the reason when I asked about his parents. He nodded.
