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“Looking good out there, Cupcake.”
“You keep saying that,” he says. “I’m going to start thinking you’re just flirting with me.”
My eyes round for only a second, recovering quickly as I flash him a lazy grin. “Would you like me to flirt with you, Ian?”
“No, I didn’t mean—” His throat bobs, and his cheeks darken with something that has nothing to do with exertion, I suspect, and his eyes dip down to his skates as he chuckles. “Damn it, Lila.”
I tilt my chin toward the rink. “You did seem like you were having fun.”
He looks embarrassed, scratching at his neck as he shoots another glance back at Kyle and Rankin, who are still working on shooting. “The kid’s doing pretty good. He’s got some raw talent.”
“But are you having fun?”
He pushes back the hair, which is darkened with sweat, from his face, his expression almost shy and his smile even more so. “Yeah,” he admits. “I am. It’s a really cool thing you’ve done here, Lila.”
It’s so stupid that something as simple as a nickname that literally no one else uses would do weird things to my insides, but it’s more about the way his voice sounds when he says it, I think. It’s the way his tone always, always softens a fraction, the way his mouth shapes the syllables like he wants to be careful with them.
Or at least, that’s what my crush-addled brain chooses to believe.
“It just felt right to me,” I tell him honestly. I turn my head to let my eyes wander over the different groups of kids in various stages of fun, smiling. “I know we weren’t in here long, but I remember how lonely it was. That feeling like no one was coming for you. Fuck, like no one wanted you. I just figured if I could distract them from that for a day…” I shrug, feeling embarrassed myself now under his scrutiny. “I don’t know. It just felt right.”
I was far too young when the crash took my parents to really remember much about them, but I vividly recall feeling so alone. Even at a young age, feeling like you have no one sticks with you. I was fortunate enough to at least have Jack and my aunt Bea and even Ian, for a while, but these kids? Some of these kids have no one. All of this is nothing compared to that.
“It really is amazing,” he says, actual reverence in his tone that makes me feel like I’m flying a little bit. “But you always were.”
My cheeks heat, and I know there’s no special meaning to what he’s just said, but fuck if it doesn’t have me biting back a grin.
“Says the pro hockey player,” I laugh.
He rolls his eyes. “Hitting a puck doesn’t hold a candle to all this, Lila. Take the compliment, brat.”
Fuck. What is it about that word? Is it just because it’s Ian? I have a sick urge to make him keep calling me that, and I’ve never felt that once in my entire adult life.
“You keep saying that,” I say with a grin, “I’m going to start thinking you’re flirting with me.”
There’s less surprise this time, replaced instead by a glimmer of challenge in his eyes as he clears his throat. “Would you like me to flirt with you?”
“I mean”—I shrug one shoulder, leaning over the rail to reach for a damp tendril of his hair, twirling it around my finger—“isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing?”
His eyes narrow, but there’s a twitch of his lips like he wants to smile. “Are you trying to one-up me, Lila?”
“I’m just playing the part, Cupcake,” I answer sweetly.
His hand envelops mine suddenly, yanking me closer so that he can lean in, his lips brushing my ear and causing me to shudder. “Two can play that game, brat.”
“Fuck,” I say on a stuttered exhale, and I feel Ian tense against me.
He draws back, his mouth parted slightly as he studies my face. I know he can see how flushed I must be, since my cheeks are on fire, and amusement colors his features as his mouth curls into an impish grin. “You good, Lila?”
“Fine, you win this time,” I grumble.
He laughs fully then, releasing me, and I immediately feel the loss of his touch.
“I should get back out there,” he tells me. “Gotta make sure Rankin doesn’t end up on his ass. That Kyle is sneaky.”
“Big scary Kyle,” I chuff, willing my knees not to wobble from the lingering sensation of how close he just was to me. “I’d better go make sure Jack hasn’t locked himself in the oven.”
“I want to say that that sounds unlikely, but I know Jack, unfortunately.”
