Page 21 of The Dating Coach (Hearts on Ice #4)

Mia’s eighteenth birthday morning broke crisp and clear, the kind of day that felt like a gift.

I stood in the doorway of Karen's room, watching my sister sleep with an ache in my chest. Eighteen.

Legally an adult. Safe from our parents' threats but also thrust into a world that didn't always treat people like her kindly.

"Stop being creepy," Mia mumbled without opening her eyes. "I can feel you angsting from here."

"I'm not angsting," I protested. "I'm reflecting. There's a difference."

"The difference is spelling." She cracked one eye open. "Are you going to cry? Because if you cry, I'll cry, and I wanted to save that for when Frank inevitably makes some speech about chosen family."

"No crying," I promised, crossing to sit on her bed. "How does it feel? Being a legal adult?"

"Anticlimactic," she admitted, sitting up. "I expected to wake up with wisdom and maybe better skin. Instead, I just have to pee."

"The glamour of adulthood," I agreed. "Ready for your birthday surprises?"

"Surprises? Plural?" She perked up. "Gem, you didn't have to—"

"Stop," I interrupted. "It's your eighteenth birthday. The first one where you get to be fully yourself. We're celebrating properly."

What I didn't tell her was that Liam, Frank, Henry , Karen, and I had spent the weekend planning what Frank called "the most epic but still emotionally manageable birthday celebration in history."

After breakfast – Mia's favorite chocolate chip pancakes, made from scratch despite my questionable cooking skills – we headed to the hockey house.

Mia chatted excitedly with me about her plans to apply to various colleges next semester, but I could see her underlying nervousness.

Birthdays in our family had always been tense affairs, filled with expectations and conditional celebration.

"Gem?" she said as we approached the house. "What if they've gone overboard? You know I don't like being the center of attention."

"Then we'll dial it back," I assured her. "Today is about what you want. Nothing more, nothing less."

The front door opened before we could knock, Frank appearing in what appeared to be a hand-bedazzled "BIRTHDAY QUEEN" apron.

"The woman of the hour!" he announced. "Welcome to your day of birth celebration, planned by committee and executed with love!"

"Oh god," Mia whispered, but she was smiling.

The house had been transformed – not with the usual hockey party decorations, but with thoughtful touches that showed how well they'd come to know my sister.

Rainbow streamers mixed with her favorite book quotes printed on banners.

The playlist Henry had created featured her favorite songs from musicals mixed with the indie bands she'd discovered recently.

But it was the small things that made my throat tight – her favorite tea waiting on the counter, a cozy reading nook set up in the corner, photos from the past few months creating a timeline of her journey to this moment.

"You guys," Mia started, then stopped, overwhelmed.

"No crying yet!" Frank commanded. "We have a schedule! Henry made a spreadsheet!"

"I make spreadsheets for everything," Henry defended, appearing with a cake that actually looked professionally made. "It's called organization."

"It's called being a Virgo," Karen countered, arriving with an armload of presents. "But we love you anyway."

Liam appeared from the kitchen, and my heart did its now-familiar skip at the sight of him.

"Happy birthday, Mia," he said warmly. "Ready for your first surprise?"

"This isn't the surprise?" she gestured at the decorated house.

"This is ambiance," Frank corrected. "Surprise number one is in the backyard."

We trooped outside to find a small group assembled on the deck – Dr. Sarah from the LGBTQ+ center, two girls from Mia's newly formed GSA group at school.

“We thought Mia might like a few more people to celebrate with,” Liam said quietly to me, as Mia was engulfed in hugs.

"You did this?" I turned to him, emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

"We all did," he said, but his hand found mine, squeezing gently. "She deserves to be celebrated by people who see her fully."

The party unfolded with the kind of joy I'd never experienced in our childhood home.

Frank had indeed baked a rainbow cake ("Subtlety is for people without style!

"), while Henry lost spectacularly at every video game despite clearly letting Mia win.

Karen performed what she called an "interpretive dance of sisterhood" that mostly involved flailing but made Mia laugh until she cried.

But it was Liam's gift that broke me. He waited until the cake had been devoured and the other presents opened – books, art supplies, a pride flag for her future dorm room. Then he handed her a simple envelope.

"What's this?" Mia asked, opening it carefully.

"Next steps," he said simply.

Inside were documents—meeting schedules with Pinewood admissions counselors, information about swimming scholarships, and a letter from the swim coach expressing interest in having her train with the team after school hours. Everything she’d need to start turning her college dreams into reality.

"I can't..." Mia looked between the papers and Liam. "This is too much."

"This is exactly enough," he corrected gently. "You're brilliant, Mia. Pinewood would be lucky to have you. These meetings are just formalities – they're already interested."

"How?" She turned to me, eyes wide. "How did he—"

"He has connections," I said through the tightness in my throat. "And he used them all for you."

What I didn't say was that I'd found him up at 3 AM last week, writing emails and making lists of people who could help. That he'd called in favors from alumni, spent hours on the phone with administrators, treated my sister's future like it was his own family's.

Mia launched herself at Liam, hugging him fiercely. "Thank you," she whispered. "For everything. For saving my life."

"You saved your own life," he said, voice rough. "We just gave you space to do it."

The moment was too much – too perfect, too emotional, too everything. I escaped to the kitchen under the pretense of getting more drinks, needing a moment to compose myself.

I was standing at the sink, trying not to cry into the remnants of rainbow cake, when Liam found me.

"Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"

"You gave her a future," I said, not turning around. "Not just college information, but proof that she matters. That her dreams matter. Do you know what that means?"

His arms came around me from behind, pulling me against his chest. "I know what it's like to have dreams that don't fit your family's expectations," he murmured against my hair. "The difference is, Mia has you. And now she has all of us."

I turned in his arms, looking up at him through tears I'd given up trying to hide. "I don't know how to thank you," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "What you did for her, for us... I just—"

Something shifted in his expression, his eyes searching mine. "Gemma..."

The space between us seemed to disappear without either of us moving. I could feel his breath against my lips, see the way his gaze dropped to my mouth and back up.

"We shouldn't..." I whispered, but my hands were already fisting in his shirt.

"Probably not," he agreed, voice rough, but his thumb traced along my jaw anyway.

And then somehow we were kissing, soft and desperate and full of everything we'd never said. His hands tangled in my hair, mine pressed against his chest where I could feel his heart racing as fast as mine.

The kitchen door burst open, Mia rushing in, radiant with joy. Liam and I sprang apart like guilty teenagers, faces flushed, both of us staring anywhere but at each other.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, seemingly oblivious to what she’d interrupted. "I just... I needed... They sang 'Happy Birthday,' and everyone looked at me with so much love, and I couldn't..."

She threw herself at us, arms wrapping around both of us in a three-way hug. "Thank you. Both of you. For saving me. For giving me this family. For everything."

"Always," Liam and I managed, our voices overlapping awkwardly.

"Okay," Mia pulled back, wiping her eyes. "I'm done being emotional now. Frank says it's time for karaoke and I fully intend to destroy Henry at Broadway ballads."

"That's my girl," I said, smoothing her hair and desperately trying to act normal. "Go show them how it's done."

She practically skipped out, leaving Liam and me in charged silence. We stood there for a moment, the weight of what had just happened settling between us.

"We should..." he started.

"Get back to the party," I finished quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah."

We straightened our clothes, fixed our smiles, and stepped back into the warmth and laughter, carrying our secret moment between us like something fragile and unnamed.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of terrible singing, competitive board games, and the kind of laughter that came from people who'd chosen to be family. Dr. Sarah shared resources for LGBTQ+ students navigating college admissions. The GSA kids made Mia promise to text them regularly.

As the sun set and the party wound down, I found myself on the back deck with Liam, watching Mia through the window as she helped Frank clean up, both of them dancing to music only they could hear.

"She's going to be okay," I said, more statement than question.

"More than okay," Liam agreed. "She's going to be extraordinary."

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For all of this. For seeing her potential. For the meetings and recommendations and—"

"Gemma," he interrupted gently. "You don't have to thank me for caring about your sister. She's family. This is what family does."

Family . The word settled around us like a blanket, warm and certain. Not the family we'd been born into, with its conditions and cruelty, but the one we'd built from chemistry tutoring and midnight swims and terrible movie nights.

“I should warn you,” I said, nudging him with my hip as we walked. “If you care about me, you’re going to have to care about my sister too.”

“Lucky me,” he grinned, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on my temple. “I happen to be a fan of both Spears sisters.”

“Oh?” I quirked an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

He chuckled. “Well, Mia’s cookies are legendary, but you…you’ve got this move when we kiss that’s—”

I slapped his shoulder. “Liam!”

“What? I’m just saying,” he shrugged, eyes glinting. “You’re a natural. Probably all that breath control from swimming.”

Before I could protest, he caught my hand and tugged me close. His lips met mine in a surprise kiss that certainly put that whole “breath control” theory to the test. When we finally pulled back, I was breathless and blinking in disbelief, while he looked different. Electric.

"I was right," he said, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. "Definitely talented."