Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
OLIVIA
“Holy shit, you can really skate,” Brian says, coming up behind me and catching me around the waist. The Schenley Park ice rink is crowded for a Tuesday night.
Stars wink in the wide expanse of sky above us, and twinkle lights wrap around the rink, giving the space an ethereal glow.
Christmas music plays over the rink speakers, and the whole atmosphere is holiday perfection.
Also perfection? The man slowly circling the rink with his arms wrapped around me from behind, dipping his head to talk, his warm breath skating over my skin.
I spin in his arms, skating backwards so I can look at him.
He’s wearing a navy-blue, hip-length puffy coat and jeans that do amazing things to his ass.
His hair is covered by a gray beanie, and his cheeks are pink from the cold.
He is the most gorgeous man I have ever known, and my heart literally skips a beat. “One of my best things.”
Letting go of me, he takes one of my hands so we’re skating side-by-side. “Did you learn to skate in San Francisco?”
I tip my head up, letting the cold air brush over my face as we circle the rink.
“I did. I was, like, the textbook definition of a youngest child. When I was five, I decided that all I wanted in life was to learn how to skate even though we lived somewhere where the temperature never went below forty degrees. Between Gabe and Amelia and all the smart kid extra-curricular activities they did, my parents were always pulled in a million different directions, but they fit in skating for me because I wanted it so badly. It was like they knew they wouldn’t be around for long and tried to fit a lifetime of fun into those years. ”
I take a deep breath, blinking away the burn in my eyes, swallowing hard against the ball of emotion that lodges in my throat at the memories of my parents. “Sorry,” I say quietly. “I haven’t talked about this in a long time.”
As we pass the entrance to the rink, Brian slows down without a word, leading me gently off the ice and towards the empty bench where we stashed our shoes.
Sitting and pulling me down next to him, he takes both of my hands in his.
“Don’t apologize. Not for this. Never for this.
” Letting go of one of my hands, he strokes his knuckles down my cheek.
“You can tell me anything. I want to know everything about you.”
Leaning into his touch, I close my eyes for a second, letting the warmth of his palm settle me.
“My mom took me to skating lessons every week for years. She would sit in the bleachers and watch me, and then afterwards we would get hot chocolate and talk. When my parents died, I thought maybe that would be it for skating for me. Even at eight, I knew Gabe was drowning. He lost my parents and then the love of his life when he broke up with Molly, and overnight, he became a parent to Ames and me. I know it was a lot, but he never stopped my skating lessons. And then when I didn’t need lessons anymore, he took me to free skate on the weekends, sitting on the bleachers to watch like my mom did and getting me hot chocolate afterwards.
By that point, his company had exploded, and he was the most famous tech founder in northern California, so going out in public wasn’t the easiest thing, but until I got my license and could drive myself, he never missed a week.
” I pause, blowing out a breath, feeling lighter at sharing this with someone.
With him. “Anyway, that’s how I know how to skate. ”
Brian smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. “Those are really good memories.”
His tone has a touch of melancholy to it that makes my heart clench. “Why does that make you sad?”
He shrugs, looking away for a second, almost like he’s uncomfortable. “It’s complicated.”
“I don’t mind complicated.” I stroke my thumbs over his palms, and when I see a snowflake land on the arm of my jacket, I tip my head up to the sky, laughing as the first flurries fall. “It’s a sign,” I murmur.
“What is?”
I smile at him. “The snow. Magic, remember? Tell me a secret while the snow falls, Bry. I promise I’ll keep it safe.”
My words—the same ones I used that first night in his apartment—have his face softening, his eyes filling with an emotion that makes my stomach shimmer.
I get the sense that Brian keeps a piece of himself walled off from even the people closest to him.
So, the fact that he wants to share with me feels monumental.
“I had the kind of childhood every kid dreams of,” he starts, his voice a little raw, like the memories are painful to access.
I tighten my hands around his as he keeps speaking.
“Parents who loved each other and loved me. Family vacations, a beach house in Delaware, summer camps, the best schools, and everything I ever could have wanted. Then, when I was twenty-eight, my dad died, and I realized everything I knew was wrong.”
I know some of this already—the way he found out about Jeremy being his brother isn’t a secret in their group of friends—but the way he talks makes me feel like he needs to purge something. Like saying these words is cathartic for him, so I stay quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“A few weeks after his funeral, I found a file in his office full of information on Jeremy. It basically documented Jeremy’s entire life from the time he was born, including how he grew up in the system, in and out of foster homes his entire childhood.
At first, I didn’t understand what I was looking at, but, well, Jeremy and I look a lot alike and we both look like him.
” He shakes his head. “My dad. Our dad. Long before I was born, my dad had an affair, and the woman got pregnant. My parents worked it out, and my dad walked away from her. Walked away from his child. Jeremy. My mom knew about the affair but never about Jeremy. My dad pretended he didn’t exist, even though he knew Jeremy was growing up all alone after his mom died.
He left Jeremy in the goddamn foster system to keep the Simpson family image pristine.
So no one would find out he fucked around on my mom.
God.” He forces out the word, blowing out a breath as his hands tighten on mine.
“It’s been years and I’m still so fucking mad at him. ”
“Because he hurt you.”
Brian snaps his gaze to mine, something akin to relief flooding his eyes.
“Yes,” he breathes. “He kept my brother from me. He kept Jeremy from growing up in a home full of people who would love him. Because my mom would have. If she would have known about Jeremy, she would have raised him like he was hers, because that’s who she was.
My mom passed six months after my dad, and she died with the guilt of knowing there was a child out there she could have protected.
Jeremy and I lost years, and he has scars that will probably never heal.
Scars because of me,” Brian says quietly.
“Because I shoved my way into his life all those years ago and told him the truth. I hurt him too, and that fucking kills me, Liv.”
“No way,” I say, settling one of my hands on his cheek so he can’t look away from me.
“No, Bry. You didn’t hurt Jeremy. Your dad did.
His choices changed the course of Jeremy’s life and so did yours, but it’s not the same.
You and your dad are not the same. You gave Jeremy family.
You gave him a brother, and an uncle for his kids, and a piece of his history he didn’t have before.
He loves you, Brian, just like you love him.
What the two of you have is special. You might not have a whole childhood full of shared memories, but you’re making memories now.
You moved here so you could be a part of each other’s lives every day.
You go to Maddy’s hockey games and read comic books with Oliver, and you were the first person to hold Grace on the day she was born.
I’m so sorry your mom never got to know Jeremy and his family, but you do, Brian.
You’re giving them enough love for both of you. ”
Brian leans in and drops his forehead to mine, taking a shaky breath. “I hate him,” he mumbles. “I hate him so much. I think I’ll probably hate him forever.”
I tip my head up and press a kiss to his forehead, winding my fingers with his, and he lets out a shuddery breath.
“That’s okay. He’s an asshole, and you get to hate him as much as you want.
But only him, Brian. Not yourself. Never yourself.
” I rest a hand over his heart, and he covers it with one of his.
“You are the best person I know,” I say quietly.
“You did all the right things. Made all the right choices. Give yourself a pass, Brian. You made a really beautiful life, and you helped give Jeremy one too.”
“Thank you,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing me. “I think I needed to hear that.”
“Just say the word and I’ll tell you again. As many times as you need.”
He leans back, but takes my hands again, his eyes searching my face. “My life is a whole lot more beautiful with you in it.”
My heart squeezes at his words, and my brain chooses that moment to remind me that, in less than three weeks, I’m getting on a plane and flying more than four thousand miles away from him.
It feels like a middle finger from the universe that this amazing man walked into my life just as I’m about to walk out of his for a while.
But three weeks is not today, so I make a vow to enjoy every single minute while I’m still here.
“That’s a whole bucket of swoon, my guy.”
He smiles, and it lights up his whole face. “Can’t help it. I feel very swoony about you, Liv.”
I just barely resist the urge to press a hand to my heart to make sure it’s still sitting in my chest. “That’s handy,” I say, “because I feel very swoony about you, too.”
With a wink and a grin, Brian slides off the bench and onto one knee, unlacing my skates and pulling them off.
And god, why is having a man take off your skates for you so damn sexy?
To compound the absolute sexy devastation, he takes one of my feet in his hands, massaging the feeling back into it.
When he presses his thumb to the ball of my foot, I groan, dropping my head back. “That feels so fucking good,” I mutter.
“Fuck, Liv,” Brian says, switching feet. “You can’t make sex noises when we’re in public and I can’t do anything about it.”
I lift my head back up, giving him a sly grin. “How do you know what my sex noises sound like? Unless I’m remembering wrong, we haven’t had sex.”
“Yet,” Brian practically growls. “We haven’t had sex yet, and that ends tonight.”
My clit throbs and I sit straight up, pulling my foot away from him. “That needs to end right now. We have to leave.”
Brian chuckles, taking my foot back. “Patience, Liv. We’ll get there. But we have things to do first.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What things?”
Slipping my shoes onto my feet, he makes quick work of his own skates and shoes then takes my hand, pulling me up from the bench, wrapping an arm around my waist and pressing his mouth to mine.
“We’re getting hot chocolate,” he murmurs.
“Your mom had it right. Skating should always end with hot chocolate.”
My heart clenches at Brian’s mention of my mom. At him giving me back this memory. And my heart, which has remained firmly in my chest for twenty-five years, leaps out and straight into his hands. “Thank you,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tightly.
Brian kisses the top of my head and runs a hand up and down my back.
The music still plays over the rink’s loudspeaker, and people mill around everywhere.
The snow falls lightly around us as the cold December air seeps into my coat and chills my bones.
But I don’t notice anything except for Brian’s warm arms around me, and the smell of pine and spice as I lay my head on his chest and breathe him in, the sound of his heartbeat in my ear.
“Anything for you, Liv. I would do absolutely anything for you.” He says the words quietly, but I hear them loud and clear. And this is the moment I surrender to the fact that one way or another, Brian Simpson is going to be mine.
And nothing in the world has ever felt so right.