13. Markus

CHAPTER 13

Markus

Choosing the location for a first date was harder than I thought it would be.

It had been years since I’d been on one—an actual, non-Daddy-related date—and I felt like I was wading into unfamiliar waters. Most of my adult life, relationships had been neatly defined by the dynamic I craved, but this? This felt entirely different. I had no script to fall back on, no clear rules to guide me.

My sister, Leah, had tried to talk some sense into me earlier.

“Markus, just relax and have fun,” she’d said over the phone, her voice warm and encouraging. “You’re overthinking it.”

She wasn’t wrong. I was overthinking it. Of course, I hadn’t told her why I was overthinking it. How could I explain to her that my biggest fear wasn’t just messing up the date, but crossing some invisible boundary with Nicky that I didn’t even realize existed? Or worse, letting my dominant instincts slip too far and scaring him off entirely.

Still, her words had helped. She reminded me that it was okay to try, to put myself out there. And maybe she was right. Maybe I could have something that wasn’t wrapped up in titles and dynamics. Something real and simple.

That thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Juniper Hollow might have been small, but it had its charm, especially during the holidays. I’d considered taking Nicholas to one of the cozy cafés downtown or even suggesting a drive to see the neighborhood light displays. But none of those options felt quite right. I wanted to do something festive, something fun. Something that would let us both loosen up a little.

That’s how I landed on the Juniper Hollow Skating Rink. It was one of the first places I noticed when I moved to town—a charming outdoor rink, nestled against a larger, year-round indoor rink. I’d passed by it a few times while running errands and always saw families and couples enjoying themselves, skating under the open sky. The whole place had a cozy, welcoming vibe.

Nicky had insisted on meeting me here instead of letting me pick him up, a choice that didn’t surprise me. It made perfect sense the more I thought about it. Independence radiated off of him, like a badge he wore proudly, and I couldn’t help but admire it. But it also made me want to take care of him even more, to find ways to make his life a little easier, even if he’d never ask for it.

I stood in front of the rink, hands shoved deep into my coat pockets, my breath clouding the frosty air. The lights strung across the rink sparkled like tiny stars, reflecting off the ice below. A towering Christmas tree at the rink’s edge was adorned with ornaments that glinted in the soft glow of the fairy lights. Everything about this place screamed holiday magic, and yet I couldn’t shake the knot of nerves in my stomach.

I spotted the Wilson family near the tree. I’d met them during one of my first weeks in town. Sam and Lila Wilson ran a laundromat downtown, and their middle-schoolers, Emma and Max, were on the ice, racing each other and dodging the occasional wobbly skater.

“Doc Webber!” Sam called, waving at me from the bench where he was tying one of Emma’s skates. His wife, Lila, gave me a warm smile and waved as well.

“Evening, Sam, Lila,” I said, walking over to them. “Looks like the kids are having fun.”

“They’re having a blast,” Lila replied, her voice brimming with that proud-parent tone. “It’s their favorite time of year.”

Sam leaned in, dropping his voice to a playful whisper. “So, I hear you’re here on a date tonight.”

I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck. “Word travels fast in the Hollow, huh?”

“Faster than you think,” he teased. “Well, good luck. Whoever she is, she’s lucky.”

“ He, actually,” I corrected gently, feeling a small knot of nerves unwind when Sam just smiled.

“Well then,” he said with a grin, “ he’s lucky.”

Before I could reply, I spotted Nicholas making his way toward me. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and his scarf was bundled so snugly around his neck that he looked like he’d stepped out of a Christmas card.

“Speak of the devil,” I said, nodding in his direction.

“Good luck, Doc,” Lila whispered as I stepped away.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, his breath visible in the chill. “Aiden called to check in, and I lost track of time.”

“No problem,” I said, gesturing toward the nearby entrance to the indoor rink. “Ready to head inside? I figured it might be warmer and, you know, less ice to scrape off the ground when we inevitably fall.”

He laughed, a sound that always tugged at something deep in me. “Warm sounds good.”

We stepped into the indoor rink, greeted by a soft hum of holiday music and the inviting scent of hot cocoa from the concession stand. The ice glowed under twinkling lights strung across the rafters, giving the space a cozy, magical feel. At a bench near the edge, we laced up our skates, the muted chatter of other skaters filling the air.

I watched him fumble a little with his laces and had to bite back the urge to kneel down and do it for him. Not because he couldn’t, but because every fiber of me wanted to take care of him.

The ice was just as much of a disaster as I expected it to be. Neither of us was particularly skilled, which quickly turned into a comedy of errors. Within the first few minutes, Nicky had stumbled twice, and I wasn’t far behind.

“Careful there,” I said as he wobbled, reaching out instinctively to steady him. My hands landed lightly on his waist, and for a second, I felt the heat of him even through the layers of clothing.

“Don’t think I need a lifeguard, Doc,” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Maybe not, but someone has to keep you upright,” I shot back, though the softness in my tone betrayed me.

He smirked, brushing my hands away gently but with purpose, and I could see the pride in his eyes. That independent streak again. I let my hands drop, but not before I gave him a look that said, If you fall, I’m catching you anyway.

The playful banter only grew as we skated—or rather, as we both tried not to fall. Every time my protective instincts surfaced, Nicky had a quick, teasing remark.

“You know,” he said after I reached out to steady him for the third time, “you don’t have to hold my hand every time I slip.”

I raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “I’m just making sure you don’t take me down with you.”

“Sure, Markus,” he replied, his grin widening. “Let me guess—you’ve got a liability waiver in your coat pocket, too?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. His teasing was relentless, but it was laced with warmth, and it only made me like him more. He had this way of making me feel like he was letting me into his world one joke at a time, and I couldn’t get enough of it.

As I reached out again to steady him after a particularly shaky glide, Nicholas huffed in mock exasperation, straightening on his own before I could touch him. He wobbled slightly but managed to stay upright.

“See?” he said, shooting me a triumphant grin. “I’ve got this.”

I held up my hands in surrender, the corners of my mouth twitching with amusement. “Alright, alright. Just trying to be helpful.”

He gave me a look—half playful, half challenging—before swatting my hand away as I instinctively reached out once more.

“I’m fine,” he replied with a grin, his voice tinged with that familiar stubbornness. “Don’t baby me, Doc.”

His teasing tone made me laugh, but it also had my mind wandering to other things—things I probably shouldn’t have been thinking about on a first date.

“Nicholas!”

The voice drew our attention. A tall, wiry man was leaning against the rink’s railing, his arm draped casually over the shoulder of another man who looked a little shy but friendly.

Nicky’s face lit up in a way that told me these weren’t strangers. “Kyle!” he called, skating toward them with a surprising amount of balance, leaving me to follow at a more cautious pace.

Kyle grinned, all sharp smirks and playful energy. “Well, well, look at you two,” he teased, eyes sparkling. “Is this a date or the casting call for the next Hallmark Christmas special?”

Nicky rolled his eyes, but his tone was light. “Jealous?”

Kyle scoffed dramatically. “Me? Please.” Then he nudged the guy beside him. “Anyway, this is Jordan. He just moved to town, and I’m showing him the ropes.”

Nicholas nodded, then turned toward me with a faint smirk. “Markus, this is Kyle—one of my oldest friends. And Kyle, this is Markus.”

Kyle’s grin widened, his gaze sliding toward me with unhidden curiosity. “So this is the famous Doc I’ve been hearing about.” He stuck out his hand, and I shook it firmly.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, keeping my tone easy.

“And you,” Kyle said, his smirk never wavering. Then, with a flick of his head toward Jordan, he added, “Jordan, this is Nicholas and Markus.”

Jordan stepped forward, offering a warm handshake to each of us. “Nice to meet you both,” he said, his voice smooth and polite.

“You too,” Nicholas replied, his tone friendly but casual. “Welcome to Juniper Hollow.”

Kyle tilted his head, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, we won’t keep you. I’m sure you’ve got all kinds of romantic shenanigans planned, right, Nicky?”

Nicholas shot him a withering look, but his voice stayed light. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

With a laugh, Kyle clapped Jordan on the back and started leading him away toward the benches. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he called over his shoulder.

Nicky exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as he turned back to me. “Sorry about Kyle,” he said, though the fondness in his voice betrayed him. “He can’t help himself.”

“No need to apologize,” I said with a small chuckle. “He’s... spirited.”

Nicky laughed softly. “That’s one word for it.”

We stayed on the ice a little longer, our banter easy and comfortable. Every now and then, I caught myself watching him—his smile, the way he brushed the hair from his eyes, the way he leaned into his teasing. It wasn’t the teasing itself that made me nervous—it was the pull I felt every time he did it. The need to steady him when he wobbled, to guide him when he hesitated, to… take care of him.

That need, so close to the surface and sometimes barely held in check, made me a little nervous. Was I overstepping? Reading too much into his playful remarks? Despite the questions running through my head, I was having an amazing time. And all of Nicky’s teasing only made it harder to stop imagining how adorably bratty he could be.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I wanted to find out.

By the time we skated off the rink, I could feel the flush in my cheeks—Nicky’s were just as rosy—and my legs were sore, but my nerves had melted away entirely.

Nicky glanced at me, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not half bad at this dating thing, Doc.”

“Not half bad, huh?” I replied, unable to hide my grin. “I’ll take it.”

He snorted. “High praise from me. Don’t let it go to your head.”

We sat down at a small café by the rink, a cozy spot nestled next to a row of holiday-decorated trees. The warmth hit me first, a welcome contrast to the biting cold of the ice. Strings of lights crisscrossed the ceiling, reflecting off frosted windows, and the air smelled like cinnamon, coffee, and freshly baked pastries.

Nicholas rubbed his hands together, his cheeks still pink from the cold.

“You look half frozen,” I said, pushing one of the steaming mugs the barista had just brought over toward him.

“I’m fine,” he said, though he wrapped his hands around the cup immediately, letting the warmth seep in.

I gave him a look. “Drink it. And don’t even think about skipping the whipped cream.”

He rolled his eyes but took a sip, smirking over the rim of his mug. “Bossy much?”

“Practical,” I countered, though his teasing pulled a chuckle out of me. “You were shivering on the rink. I’d call it looking out for you.”

“Sure you would.” His smirk deepened. “And here I thought you were all about letting me take care of myself, Doc. Should I be worried you’ll start lacing up my skates next time?”

I hesitated, thrown for a moment by his tone. He wasn’t serious, obviously, but the teasing edge left me both charmed and a little unsure. It all seemed to be in good fun, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking a line here.

“Only if I think you’re going to trip and break an ankle,” I said finally, managing to keep my tone light.

He leaned back in his chair, grinning like he’d won some invisible battle. “Noted.”

I took a sip of my own hot chocolate, rich and sweet with just the right amount of whipped cream, and watched him as he dove into the apple cinnamon scone we’d ordered. There was something unguarded about the way he ate—completely at ease, crumbs on his fingers and a dab of whipped cream at the corner of his mouth. I had to fight the urge to lean over and wipe it off myself.

“So,” he said after a moment, setting the mug down, “what made you move from San Francisco to Juniper Hollow? It’s not exactly a direct pipeline.”

I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. “It wasn’t. My life there… was hectic, to say the least. I worked in a hospital, pulling ridiculous hours, barely had time to breathe most days.”

“That checks out,” he said, tilting his head with a knowing look. “You’ve got that workaholic vibe.”

“Do I?”

“Definitely.”

I grinned, though the topic wasn’t all lighthearted. “I was dating someone at the time. We were together for years—lived together, even. I thought things were solid.” I paused, staring down at the swirls of whipped cream melting into my drink. “But he cheated on me. And when things ended, it felt like everything I’d been building my life around just... evaporated. I tried sticking it out in San Francisco, but after a couple of years, I realized I wasn’t happy. Work was just work, and my personal life? Well, it didn’t exist.”

“That sucks,” Nicholas said, his voice softer now.

“Yeah,” I agreed, shrugging. “One day, I saw an opening here at the senior home—medical director. It’s a smaller role, fewer hours, and honestly? The idea of stepping off the hamster wheel for a while sounded good.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “But doesn’t that mean less pay?”

“Sure. Less pay, but a lot more life,” I said. “Turns out, there’s more to it than big-city salaries and overbooked schedules. I wanted a job I didn’t resent by the end of the day. Something I could actually feel good about.”

He nodded, taking another bite of his scone. “That’s fair. The residents love you.”

“They do?” I asked, smiling. “I’m pretty sure they just like that I bring in trivia games and host ‘Fun Fact Fridays.’”

That earned a small laugh from him, and for a moment, we just sipped our drinks in companionable silence.

“What about you?” I asked eventually. “You’re not exactly a small-town recluse yourself. You could’ve done anything. Why not something like nursing? Doctor? You’ve got the brains for it.”

His expression shifted slightly, his hands wrapping tighter around his mug.

“I was going to,” he said quietly. “Nursing school was the plan. But life…” He trailed off, his eyes distant for a moment. “Life had other plans. My mom passed away when I was about to start college. Aiden was twelve at the time, and there was no one else to take care of him. She was a single mom, an only child, and our dad was… not in the picture.”

“You raised him,” I said, piecing it together.

He nodded. “Someone had to. Foster care wasn’t an option, not if I could help it. So, I stayed in the Hollow, got a job, and made it work.” He exhaled softly. “It wasn’t easy, but it was the right choice. Aiden deserved stability.”

“You both did,” I said, my chest tightening at the thought of an eighteen-year-old shouldering all of that. “But what about now? Aiden’s grown, right? Off at college?”

“Yeah,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “And I couldn’t be prouder of him. But I don’t know. Maybe now’s my time to figure things out again. Nursing school isn’t completely off the table.”

“It shouldn’t be,” I said, leaning forward. “You’d be good at it.”

“You don’t even know me that well,” he said, though there was a flicker of something—gratitude, maybe?—in his expression.

“I know enough,” I said simply.

He held my gaze for a beat before shaking his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “You’re something else, Doc.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Maybe.”

We talked more as we finished our drinks, easing into lighter topics. We discovered we both had one sibling and shared the struggles of being the older one.

“Virgo?” I asked, raising an eyebrow when the subject of astrology came up.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Figures,” I said. “Meticulous. Organized. Probably drives your brother nuts.”

“It does,” he admitted, smirking. “What’s your excuse?”

“Same sign,” I said, and he groaned.

“Of course. This explains so much.”

We traded stories about childhood holidays—his filled with modest but heartfelt traditions, mine with the chaos of a big extended family. He laughed at my tale of trying to build a gingerbread house with my nieces and nephews that had collapsed before we could finish decorating it.

By the time we stood and strolled toward the exit, I couldn’t stop smiling, and when I stole a look at Nicholas’s face, neither could he.

My breath clouded the air as I held the door open for Nicholas, who tightened his scarf around his neck. We stepped onto the sidewalk and it felt like the world had narrowed to just us.

We walked in silence for a moment, our footsteps crunching on the light layer of snow dusting the sidewalk. I glanced at Nicky, debating what to do when we were about to part ways. Should I offer a handshake? A hug? Was a peck on the cheek too much? Too little? God, when had I gotten so bad at this?

I walked him to his car, our conversation light but threaded with an undercurrent of anticipation. As it turned out, we weren’t parked far from each other. He stopped and turned to me, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I had a great time,” he said, his voice steady but soft. “So much that… I don’t want the night to end.”

My pulse kicked up, the words sinking in. “You don’t?”

He shook his head, his gaze meeting mine, open and unguarded.

“Do you…” I hesitated, then cleared my throat. “Would you like to come back to my place?”

His brows lifted slightly, and I scrambled to add, “Nothing has to happen if you don’t want it to, Nicky. Just?—”

“Nicholas,” he interrupted, his breath hitching. “Not Nicky.”

“Right,” I said, correcting myself. “Nicholas. Would you like to come back to my place?”

For a beat, I held my breath, waiting for his response. Then his lips curved into a slow, genuine smile. “I would.”

Relief and something else—something deeper, warmer—spread through me. “Want me to drive you in my car, so we can get to my place together?” I hesitated before adding, “We can come back for your car later. No worries.”

He shot me a playful look. “I appreciate it, but I’ll stick with my own wheels. No need to baby me.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Fair enough. I’m not parked far from here. I’ll be back soon and then you can follow me home.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He unlocked the door and slid into the driver’s seat, glancing up at me one last time. “See you in a few?”

“You will,” I said, stepping back.

I made my way to my own car, the excitement buzzing under my skin now tinged with a flicker of nervousness. The memory of the first and only time he’d come to my place hovered at the edge of my thoughts—the way he’d left so abruptly, the week of avoiding me afterward. We hadn’t talked about it, but maybe tonight was a chance to rewrite that ending.

I drove up next to him and then he followed me.

The drive home felt longer than usual, even though he was right behind me the whole way. The tension coiled tight in my chest eased a little when I turned into my driveway and saw his headlights pull in behind me.

I stepped out of the car and waited for him. Nicky climbed out of his own vehicle, shoving his hands into his coat pockets as he walked up the short path to where I stood.

Our eyes met in the glow of the porch light, and for a moment, everything else—the cold, the doubts, the awkwardness—faded.

“Ready?” I asked.

He nodded, a soft smile curving his lips.

When we stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloped us, and the door clicked shut. I wasn’t sure what tonight would bring, but when I looked at him standing there, I knew one thing: I wanted to find out.