Page 8

CHAPTER 8

CASPIAN

I can’t wipe the smile off my face as I unlock my front door, still riding high from today’s accomplishments at Special Blend. Every surface gleams, ready for customers, and I can already picture the comfortable buzz of conversation filling the space. The espresso machine shines like new, and the display case stands empty but spotless, waiting for pastries.

I’ve arranged the mismatched mugs—all carefully selected from thrift stores—in neat rows behind the counter, but I still need a bookcase along the back wall for my bookstore corner.

Even the exposed brick walls sparkle after a thorough washing, and the wooden floors glow warmly under the pendant lights I installed last week. The cozy reading nooks with their plush armchairs are perfectly positioned, just waiting for readers to sink into them with their lattes and novels.

The only cloud in my perfect sky is the vacant baker position, but the Help Wanted sign in the window gives me hope. I might need to hire another barista too, especially once the bookstore section is up and running.

Kicking off my shoes, I flop onto the couch, but relaxation eludes me. My mind keeps drifting back to New Year’s Eve, to heated kisses and strong hands in the dark. I groan, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. That mysterious stranger has taken up permanent residence in my thoughts, and my body hasn’t forgotten him either.

“Get it together,” I mutter, standing to pace. Back in Phoenix, I’d know exactly where to go to blow off some steam, but Maplewood is still uncharted territory. I’m not even sure if there’s a gay bar nearby, and there’s no way I’m driving all the way to Burlington. Although the idea has some merit. Maybe before I open Special Blend for good, I should drive back to Burlington, grab a hotel room for the night, and hit up that same club.

Not that I’m hoping to meet my secret maple-leaf beauty spot guy. That would be a silly expectation.

A knock at the door startles me from my thoughts. When I open it, Nate fills the doorframe, looking unfairly attractive in a thick sweater that hugs his broad shoulders.

“Hey,” he says, offering that slight smile that makes his eyes crinkle. “You free?”

“Oh! Hi! Yes, totally free. Like, completely and utterly free. Just sitting here being free,” I babble, then cringe at my overenthusiastic response. But can anyone blame me when he’s standing there looking like that?

“Want to go ice skating on the lake?”

I bark out a laugh before I can stop myself. “You want me to strap knives to my feet and walk on frozen water? That’s a hard pass.”

Nate’s laugh is rich and warm. “It’s fun, I promise. I won’t let you fall.”

“I don’t know…” I hesitate, my traitorous mind immediately conjuring images of his strong arms catching me, holding me close.

“Come on, city boy. Live a little,” he says with that subtle half-smile that makes my stomach do backflips.

“Fine,” I concede, already reaching for my warmest jacket. “But if I die, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

Nate eyes my jacket with disapproval. “That’s not going to cut it. You got anything warmer?”

“Shopping’s been pretty low on my priority list lately.”

“Come with me,” Nate says, gesturing toward his house. I grab my keys and pull the door closed behind me, following him next door to his place.

Inside his entryway, Nate reaches behind his door, where several coats hang on wooden pegs. He pulls down a thick winter coat and holds it out to me. “Here, you need something warmer than that lightweight jacket you’ve got on. Can’t have you freezing out there on the ice.”

The moment I slip it on, I’m enveloped in Nate’s scent—something woodsy and a hint of something familiar that makes my pulse quicken. Thank god the coat is long enough to hide my body’s immediate response.

Stop having thoughts about your potentially straight neighbor who maybe has a girlfriend. And she’s really nice too. Bad Caspian .

“So, um, how’s Addy doing?” I ask as we drive to the lake, trying to make conversation and remind myself why this attraction is pointless. “Is she busy tonight?” She must be if he asked me to come ice skating with him.

Nate looks confused for a moment, his brows furrowing. “Oh, she’s probably holed up in her studio painting something. She gets like that when inspiration strikes. Won’t come up for air for days sometimes. It used to drive me crazy, but her fiancée finds it adorable.”

So maybe straight, but definitely not with Addy.

As we pull up to the lake, I’m surprised by how many cars are parked along the shoreline. Clearly, this is the place to be on a winter evening in Maplewood. Massive spotlights around the perimeter cast an ethereal glow across the frozen surface, their beams catching occasional snow flurries. The moon hangs high above us, but its gentle luminescence is no match for the artificial brightness below.

My stomach does an uncomfortable flip as I eye the ice. “Are you sure this is safe? I mean, what if the ice breaks? Or what if I fall and crack my head open? I’ve never even been roller skating, let alone tried to balance on actual blades.”

“Hey.” Nate’s voice is gentle as he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “The ice is plenty thick this time of year, and I won’t let you fall. We’ll take it slow, and I’ll be beside you the whole time.”

At the lake, Nate leads me to a small rental shack where a teenager hands me a pair of well-worn skates while Nate pulls out his own professional-looking pair.

“Show off,” I mutter, fumbling with the laces.

“Here, let me help.” Nate kneels in front of me, his warm fingers brushing against my ankles as he tightens the laces. The innocent touch sends shivers up my spine.

When he stands and offers his hand to help me onto the ice, I take it, trying to ignore how perfectly our palms fit together. “Remember your promise about not letting me fall?”

His blue eyes sparkle with amusement. “I got you, Cas. Trust me.”

And despite my better judgment, I do. Especially since Nate has just given me a nickname and all.

Oh, stop my beating silly heart.

The moment my blades touch the ice, my legs start shaking like a newborn fawn. I grip Nate’s hand tighter, probably cutting off his circulation, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he positions himself slightly in front of me, his other hand resting on my waist to steady me.

“Relax,” he says softly. “You’re too tense. Bend your knees a little.”

“If I bend my knees, I’ll fall on my ass,” I protest, but I do as he says anyway. To my surprise, it does help with my balance.

“Good. Now, watch my feet. It’s like walking, but you push off to the side instead of straight back.”

I try to mimic his movements, but my feet seem to have different ideas. They slide in opposite directions, and I yelp, pitching forward into Nate’s chest. His arms wrap around me instantly, solid and secure, and I’m suddenly aware of how close we are. His cologne—or maybe it’s just him—fills my senses, making my head spin.

“You okay?” he asks, his breath warm against my ear.

“Yeah,” I squeak, trying to regain my composure. “Just discovering I have a toxic relationship with gravity.”

His chuckle rumbles through his chest, and I feel it where we’re pressed together. “Let’s try again. This time, keep your weight centered.”

Slowly, with Nate’s patient guidance, I start to get the hang of it. We slowly make our way around the lake edge while other skaters zip past us with enviable grace. Some give us encouraging smiles, probably remembering their own first times on the ice.

“Look at you,” Nate says proudly when I manage a few glides without death-gripping his hand. “You’re a natural.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” I laugh, then immediately regret speaking because I lose my concentration and start wobbling again. Nate’s hand is there instantly, steadying me.

“Want to try going a little faster?”

“Absolutely not. I’m perfectly happy at a geriatric pace, thank you very much.”

He grins, and it transforms his whole face. I’ve never seen him look so relaxed, so at ease. Out here on the ice, surrounded by the quiet woods and the star-filled sky, it’s like he’s in his element. The sight makes my heart do something weird.

“Come on,” he coaxes, skating backward now so he can face me. Show off. “Just a little faster. I won’t let go.”

And despite my protests, I find myself picking up speed, Nate’s sure grip giving me the confidence to push harder against the ice. The cold wind stings my cheeks, my borrowed coat billows behind me, and for a moment, I feel like I’m flying.

Then, my skate catches a rough patch of ice, and the world tilts sideways.