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He hadn’t left her side all night, she remembered, as if there was nobody else on the ice. At first, she couldn’t quite believe it was happening, that the guy she had been crushing on for years finally seemed to be looking at her. Her! Then she had simply leaned into the wonder of it.

Later, he had walked her to her car, their breath hanging in the cold air. She had been shivering, not sure if it was the temperature or the way he kept looking at her. When he had finally kissed her, Hannah had been giddy with the rush of possibilities.

That had been the start of everything.

Now, as they circled the rink side by side, hand in hand, she could tell by the look in his eyes when she risked a quick glance that he was remembering too.

“Feels familiar,” he said quietly.

“It does.” Her voice came out softer than she intended.

He gave a small smile. “You’re still better at this than you give yourself credit for.”

“You always said that.”

“Because it’s true.”

They skated another loop in silence, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface, while the kids raced each other a safe distance away, sliding and laughing.

“I think about that night sometimes,” he said finally.

She swallowed, astonished that he would admit it. “Me too.”

Before either of them could say anything else, Carter skated up.

“I’m think I’m done skating,” he announced.

“Are you?” Though she could clearly see he was tired, Hannah would never have expected him to admit to it.

“I am too,” Riley said, skating up to them. “Plus, my feet hurt.”

“We should probably head back to the hotel,” Wes said. “We’ve had a long day, and we’ve got an even longer one tomorrow.”

The fact that neither child protested much told her just how worn out they were.

On the way back to the hotel, Carter leaned heavily into her side, and Riley’s hand curled trustingly around Wes’s. At the sheer domesticity of the scene, her heart gave another of those painful little twists that she did her best to ignore.

This was all make-believe, she reminded herself. A temporary situation. The children were only in her life for a few months and Wes hadn’t been hers for a long, long time.

Chapter 23

“Into the shower,” she told the kids once they were back in the suite. “One of you can use the bathroom in our room and the other can use this one, if it’s okay with Wes.”

“Fine with me,” he said. “As long as nobody floods the place.”

“We won’t,” Riley promised solemnly.

They disappeared, leaving her and Wes alone in the small living room now, the soft lamplight warming the boring hotel furniture.

Wes pulled off his coat, leaving him in a dark T-shirt that stretched comfortably over his shoulders and chest, and a pair of worn jeans.

The lines of fatigue around his eyes did absolutely nothing to diminish how good-looking he was. If anything, they made him more real. More human.

Hannah was acutely, almost painfully aware of him. With a sudden fierce urge, she wanted to rise on her toes and kiss him, to taste him again and see if he still felt like home.

She knew it wasn’t appropriate. She knew she was exhausted and vulnerable and, okay, a little sad to be reminded of the transitory nature of their relationship.

None of that stopped the ache inside her.