Page 6

Liv nods, her eyes sparkling. "I come here sometimes when I need a break from the bakery chaos. It's my little slice of peace."

We settle onto a wrought-iron bench, our shoulders brushing, and I feel a surge of warmth that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun.

"So, farm boy," Liv says, bumping my shoulder playfully. "Tell me about life in Canterbury. I bet it's a far cry from my cramped Italian kitchen growing up."

I chuckle, thinking back to my childhood. "Oh, you have no idea. Picture endless green hills, more sheep than people, and me, running barefoot through it all, pretending I was already a rugby star."

"Barefoot?" Liv's eyebrows shoot up.

"Builds character," I say with a wink. "And calluses. Lots of calluses."

As we trade stories – her tales of flour-covered kitchen adventures with her Nonna, my mishaps learning to shear sheep – I am captivated not just by her words, but by the way her hands dance as she speaks, the little crinkle at the corner of her eyes when she laughs.

"You know," I say, a thought occurring to me, "I reckon my mum would love your baking. She's always said city folk don't know how to make a proper cake."

Liv's eyes narrow playfully. "Is that a challenge, Mr. Snow?"

I hold up my hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just the messenger. But if you're offering to prove her wrong, I certainly wouldn't say no to being the taste-tester."

Liv launches into a passionate defense of her cake-making abilities, complete with dramatic hand gestures, and it’s the most natural thing in the world to watch her, to be with her. We’re like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

The sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky in a breathtaking array of oranges and pinks. I gently touch Liv's arm, interrupting her animated description of the perfect cake texture.

"Hey," I say softly, nodding towards the harbor. "I know a spot where we can catch the sunset. What do you say?"

Liv's eyes light up. "Lead the way, Iceman."

I lead her up the winding path, my hand instinctively settling at the small of her back. The warmth of her skin seeps through the fabric of her dress, a quiet contrast to the crisp evening air. She fits so easily beside me, like she’s always belonged there.

Then she says it—that name—and it stops me in my tracks. I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. “Iceman, huh? I thought that was just a rugby thing.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving in a knowing smile. “Oh, I’ve done my homework. Watched the interviews, read the articles.” Her voice drops slightly, teasing. “You don’t let people in easily. Always composed, always controlled… except, maybe, when you’re on the field.”

My jaw tightens, and for a moment, I wonder how much she really knows. That my reputation isn’t just about rugby—it’s how I keep myself from getting hurt. From letting anyone get too close.

She steps in just a fraction, her voice softer now. “But don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

We reach the lookout point just as the sun kisses the water. The harbor stretches out before us, a canvas of shimmering gold. Boats dot the water, their sails catching the last rays of sunlight.

"Wow," Liv breathes, her eyes wide. "It's beautiful."

I find myself watching her more than the sunset, captivated by the way the light plays across her face. "Yeah, it is."

We settle onto a nearby bench, our shoulders just barely touching. A comfortable silence falls between us as we watch the sun's slow descent.

"You know," I say, breaking the quiet, "I've lived here for years, but I don't think I've ever really stopped to appreciate this view."

Liv turns to me, a soft smile on her face. "Sometimes it takes seeing things through someone else's eyes to really appreciate what's right in front of you."

I nod, feeling a warmth spread through my chest that has nothing to do with the fading sunlight. "I'm starting to see that."

I take a deep breath, the salty sea air mingling with the lingering scent of Liv's perfume. "You know, I've been thinking," I start, my heart racing a bit. "This afternoon has been... well, pretty amazing."

Liv's eyes meet mine, warm and inviting. "I couldn't agree more, Iceman." She nudges my shoulder gently.

I laugh, the tension in my chest easing. "I was wondering if maybe we could do this again? Maybe I could cook for you next time. Show off some of my farm boy skills."

Her eyebrows shoot up, a playful smirk dancing across her lips. "You cook? Color me intrigued. Though I hope you know you're setting yourself up for some tough competition."

"Oh, I think I can handle it," I reply, puffing out my chest in mock bravado. "My lamb roast is legendary in Christchurch."

Liv's laughter rings out, clear and bright against the backdrop of the darkening sky. "Alright then, farm boy. You're on. But don't think I'll go easy on you just because you bought out my entire bakery."

I feel a blush creeping up my neck at the memory. "Yeah, about that... I may have panicked a little."

"A little?" She grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought you were going to single-handedly put my nieces and nephews through college."

We burst into laughter, the sound of it mingling with the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. As our mirth subsides, I find myself struck by how easy this feels, how natural.

"You know," Liv says softly, her gaze drifting back to the horizon, "I haven't felt this... content in a long time."

I nod, understanding exactly what she means. "Me neither. It's nice, isn't it?"

She hums in agreement, and her hand slips into mine. It's a small gesture, but it sends a thrill through me.

As the last sliver of sun disappears and the city lights begin to twinkle to life around us, I think about the whirlwind that is my life - the constant training, the pressure of upcoming matches, the public scrutiny.

For a moment, a flicker of doubt crosses my mind. How will this fit into all of that?

But then Liv squeezes my hand, as if sensing my momentary hesitation, and I push the thought aside. Right now, in this moment, with the taste of possibility sweet on my tongue, none of that matters. I'm exactly where I want to be.

The city fades away, leaving just us in this perfect bubble of starlight and possibility. I lean in, drawn by an irresistible force, and Liv meets me halfway.

Our lips brush, tentative at first, then with growing confidence. It's electric, sending shivers down my spine that have nothing to do with my 'Iceman' nickname. This kiss holds the promise of new beginnings, of adventures we've yet to imagine.

"So," I say, turning to her with a grin, "think you can teach me how to make those amazing cannolis of yours?"

Liv's laugh echoes into the night. "Oh, Elliott. That's a family secret passed down for generations. You'll have to work much harder to earn that one."

We stand to leave, our hands still intertwined. Whatever challenges lie ahead, they'll be worth it. After all, I've never been one to back down from a challenge, especially one as sweet as this.