NATE
I react instinctively as Caspian stumbles, pulling him against me to break his fall. We spin together on the ice, my years of experience keeping us upright as I guide us toward the bank. His hands grip my sweater, and I can feel him trembling slightly.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, steadying us both. “You’re okay.”
Caspian looks up at me, his dark eyes wide and reflecting the moonlight. My breath catches in my throat. He’s wearing my coat, surrounded by the smell of my cologne and coffee, and something stirs in my chest.
“Maybe we should take a break,” I suggest, my voice rougher than intended. “There’s hot chocolate at the rental shack.”
“Oh, thank god.” Caspian laughs, the tension breaking. “I was trying to think of a way to suggest that without sounding like a wimp.”
We reach the bank, and I help him step onto solid ground. He’s surprisingly steady now, learning quickly despite his initial fears. The thought makes me smile.
Inside the small wooden shack, the teenage attendant hands us steaming cups of cocoa. Caspian wraps his fingers—barely peeking out from the too-long sleeves of my coat—around his cup, bringing it to his face and inhaling deeply. Seeing him swimming in my jacket, combined with the simple pleasure in his expression, makes my chest tight.
“So,” he says, settling onto one of the benches. “Do you come here often? You’re really good on the ice.”
I shrug, sitting beside him. “Grew up skating here. Used to play hockey in high school, but these days, I mostly come out here to clear my head.”
“It’s beautiful,” Caspian admits, looking over the frozen lake. “Different from anything I saw growing up in Phoenix.”
“I bet.” I take a sip of cocoa, watching him from the corner of my eye. “How are you settling in? Special Blend coming along?”
His face lights up. “Actually, yeah! The cleaning and renovations are basically done. I just need to hire a couple of helpers.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching other skaters glide past. A young couple spins together, laughing, and I feel Caspian tense slightly beside me.
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods quickly. “Yeah, just…thinking about my mom.”
The sadness in his voice makes me want to pull him close. Instead, I say, “Want to talk about it?”
For the next hour, Caspian shares stories about his mother—her love of romance novels, her amazing cooking—that no matter how much he tries, Caspian can’t match her infectious laugh.
When he shivers, I realize how late it’s gotten. “We should head back,” I say reluctantly. “You probably have to be up super early to get the coffee shop ready, right?”
The drive home is quiet but comfortable. Caspian hums along softly to the radio, and I find myself memorizing the sound, storing it away with other dangerous thoughts about my new neighbor.
As we pull up to our houses, Caspian starts to take off my coat.
“Keep it,” I say quickly. “At least until you can get something warmer. Vermont winters are no joke.”
He hugs the coat closer, and something possessive stirs in my chest. “Thanks, Nate. For everything tonight. It was…really nice.”
“Yeah,” I agree softly. “It was.”
I watch him walk to his door, making sure he gets inside safely before heading to my own house. I lean against my front door, closing my eyes.
I’m in trouble. Deep trouble. Because every time I’m near Caspian, I catch hints of his addictive scent of coffee and vanilla. Pure sunshine and warmth. And tonight, with him wearing my clothes, smelling like me…
But Caspian deserves better than someone still haunted by past relationships, someone who hooks up anonymously in Burlington because he’s too scared to open his heart again.
I need to keep my distance. For both our sakes.
Too bad my heart doesn’t seem to be listening.
Despite the late hour, sleep feels impossible. My mind keeps circling back to Caspian—his laugh, his warmth pressed against me on the ice, the way my coat swallowed his smaller frame. With a frustrated groan, I head to my workshop in the garage.
