Page 118 of Stand Your Ground

“We’re going skiing. Isn’t it obvious?”

Liv’s smirk was a tired one, and I reached out, thumbing just under her eyes where her full smile would usually reach. “I’m really fucking happy to see you.”

She leaned into the touch, surprising me with the way her face warped. Her hands covered mine, holding me to her. “I’m glad to see you, too.”

I led her to the table, pulling out her chair before I sat across from her. And as soon as I did, two waitresses poured out of the back kitchen. One unfolded our napkins and explained who they were, that they’d be taking care of us, while the other filled our water and champagne glasses. When they were gone, Livia arched a brow at me.

“This is a very different experience from our first rooftop together.”

“I hoped it would be,” I said, reaching over for her hands. “I thought a lot about what I wanted to do tonight. After my game last week, I was crashing out. I was just thinking about how I told you I loved you for the first time while fucking you against the side of a house in the shadows.”

“Pretty iconic,” Livia mused with a grin.

I laughed. “Yeah, I mean, it fit us for sure, but… Livia, you deserve so much more than just that. I thought about how I could do this big gesture for you, take you in a hot air balloon maybe, or book a quick overnight trip to Key West to dive.”

“Well, I’m afraid of heights, and the thought of breathing out of a tube makes me want to claw out of my skin, so thanks for not doing that.”

I smoothed her hand in mine with a grin. “What I decided was that I just wanted to take you on a good old-fashioned date.”

“By renting out an entire rooftop and having your teammates treat me like a celebrity.”

“Precisely.”

The low laugh in her throat was raspy and delicious. “You are something else, Carter Fabri.”

But for some reason, I thought she still looked a bit sad when she said it.

Another Galaxy

Livia

By the time dusk settled in around us on that rooftop, I’d lost count of how many times Carter had made me laugh.

I’d managed to discreetly tell one of our waitresses to bring me nonalcoholic champagne when Carter was discussing something hockey-related with the other, and she’d winked at me before taking my glass and replacing it with a new one on her next round out to the table. But even though the bubbles were nonalcoholic, they still left me feeling fizzy inside.

The sun had slipped below the bay as we lingered at that ridiculous table Aleks had dressed like it belonged in aVoguespread, the string lights above us glowing brighter with each passing minute. Carter only let go of where he held my hand across the table when a new course left, and as soon as it was cleared, he was holding me again. And sweet Zamboni was there for all of it, the kitchen crew being so kind as to bring him a giant water bowl and a meal that rivaled ours.

We’d talked about everything — his parents’ home in Hamilton that he wanted to take me to, my love of trip hop, the merits of different designer brands we both fancied, and whether mint chocolate chip ice cream should be a felony. He kept the conversation light and easy, like he knew my soul was too weary for anything heavier. He didn’t bring up my parents orthe past that clung to me like a cloak, and he didn’t press about what I was going to do about my sister’s wedding.

He delivered on his promise — it just felt like a run-of-the-mill first date.

Except nothing was run of the mill when it came to this man.

Every time I looked across the table at him — at his soft grin, at the way he leaned forward like every word out of my mouth was scripture — I felt the ground tilt beneath me. I wanted to bottle the sound of his laugh, wanted to press pause on the sight of him cracking pepper over my pasta with a flourish like he was a sous chef instead of a hockey player.

I wanted to live here, in this suspended moment where everything was perfect.

But beneath the sparkle of candlelight and the gentle buzz of champagne, I still felt like I was stranded on a raft at sea — adrift, nauseous, terrified of what waited when the storm brewing in the distance finally found me.

Because at some point tonight, I had to tell him that I was pregnant.

I had to ruin this.

Every bubble of laughter that passed between us felt bittersweet because I knew it was the last of him carefree. He didn’t know what I knew. He didn’t feel the secret pounding inside me, the truth that would drop like an anvil on his shoulders the second it left my lips.

And maybe I was a coward, but I couldn’t do it yet. Not while his eyes still gleamed, not while he was beaming at me like everything was right in his world again now that we were together. And I felt that, too. The moment I’d stepped off that elevator and saw him, my breaths came easier, even knowing the news I had to break.

The truth was Carter felt like home in a way I thought I’d never experience again.