And he knows it.
We both watch Laddie take a few rides down the hill, screaming and laughing as other kids pile onto the sled with him. When one kid wipes out at the bottom, Laddie hops off and helps him up, brushing snow off his jacket.
Liam’s voice softens beside me. “He’s a great kid. You did an amazing job.”
“Don’t try to butter me up, Liam.”
But I can’t help the little smile tugging at my lips, or the way my eyes flick sideways to catch the warmth in his.
He’s staring at me again. I can feel it.
I turn and catch him in the act.
“Stop staring at me, weirdo.”
He puts his hands up. “Can’t help it. You’re stunning.”
“Oh my God, double quit it. Holy moly, Liam.”
I cross my arms, pretending I’m unaffected, but the half-smile tugging at my mouth gives me away.
I don’t know why. I like it today.
Maybe I’m tired of pushing away softness.
He changes the subject gently, like he’s afraid to spook me.
“We’ve got a home game next week. Do you and Laddie want to come? I can get you into the family box.”
That wordfamilyhits the center of my chest like a pebble dropped in a still lake.
It creates ripples everywhere.
I don’t answer right away.
I watch Laddie barrel down the hill again.
I let myself breathe.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “I’ll ask Laddie. But… it sounds fun.”
His chin dips in a little nod, casual, but I can see the hope in the way he exhales. I can almost feel his heart beating from here.
He tries again. “Can I order sushi for us tonight? Maybe we can all watch a movie?”
I give him a flat look because I know exactly what he’s doing.
“Dude. Don’t press your?—”
He waits.
Eyes soft.
Shoulders tense.
I sigh and look away. “Fine. I don’t feel like cooking.”
The smile he gives me is grateful, and so full of tenderness, I have to look at the snow instead of his face.
