Page 51 of Icebreaker

"Two hours…maybe three." He grinned at me with a light blush coloring his cheeks. "As soon as it started to get dark, I realized I was hungry and scared, and I ran all the way backhome. Dad was waiting for me on the front porch with a mug of hot chocolate and a hug."

"And did he punish you for that?"

Axel shook his head. "Not at all. He only said he was glad I was safe."

I smiled, picturing a pint-sized Axel full of determination to be himself. "So, you've always been a rebel?"

He pulled me closer and rested his chin on my shoulder. "I suppose so, but I've learned a few things since then, like how to pick my battles and figure out who I should hold close to my heart."

"And who are those lucky people?"

"It starts with you, Quinn…always you."

After the sun went down, we built a fire in the fire pit outside the cabin. We wanted to sit together and watch the stars overhead. I helped Axel gather kindling and short logs from the woodpile.

He knew what he was doing, and I stood back, watching him arrange the wood carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. I always felt a wave of affection when I watched him approach even the simplest jobs with focus and determination.

Once the flames were leaping and the fire crackled happily, we settled onto a log with a blanket wrapped around our shoulders. Axel reached around my waist and pulled me close. It was impossible to feel cold wrapped so tight against his warm body.

A few minutes later, I perked up and said, "I've got a surprise for you. It's in the cabin. I'll be right back."

"Yeah?" Axel tilted his head to the side. "Then hurry back…please."

I soon returned, carrying a bag of marshmallows and two telescoping skewers. "We can't have a campfire without these."

"Are those marshmallows? I haven't had those since I was a kid."

I handed him a skewer and tore open the bag. "Have you ever roasted them over a campfire?"

"Uh, no. We had them as a sort of candy, and one time, a friend of mine gave me hot cocoa with a big, fat marshmallow floating in it."

"Then, you've got a new experience coming. Let me show you." I took his skewer and speared a marshmallow before handing it back. "You want to pull this out to its full length. We don't need any singed eyebrows."

Axel watched as I showed him how to hold the marshmallow over the flame. "Not too close, or it will catch fire. You want to slowly turn it so it cooks evenly, getting brown and toasty without getting burnt."

He grinned and held his skewer near mine. A look of wonder filled his face when his marshmallow finally began to puff up and turn golden brown.

"That's perfect…stop." While Axel pulled his marshmallow back, I pulled mine off the skewer and popped it in my mouth.

He followed my example and grinned. "Maggie and I loved to roast marshmallows when we were little. Once, we sneaked out into the backyard after bed and built a fire, just the two of us. Mom and Dad found us curled up on the ground asleep in the wee hours of the morning."

Axel bumped his shoulder against mine. "Maja and I didn't have that many secrets. I was always too busy with hockey."

After he ate his second perfectly roasted marshmallow, Axel rubbed his belly. "These taste so good."

I laughed and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth, licking the sweet sugar from his lips. "I knew you'd like them."

We roasted a few more marshmallows and then scooted down to lay back and watch the stars overhead. It was so different from the city. It looked like I could reach out and gather them, like tiny pieces of glitter, in my hand.

I rested my head on Axel's shoulder. "When I was a kid, I dreamed about being an astronaut."

He turned his head to look at me. "You did? Landing on the moon and all that?"

"I wanted to go to Mars." I chuckled softly. "I had a space obsession. I wanted to be the first man to walk on a different planet."

"And that changed?"

I sighed and stared up at the skies. "It did. Everything changed after my parents died. Hockey had always been part of my life, too, but I craved it as my escape once they were gone. I coped with the grief by losing myself on the ice."

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