Immediately, his lungs eased, the urge to cough lessened, and he was finally able to suck in a deep breath.
“How?” he asked when he was finally able to talk.
She shrugged, making his nerves stand at rigid attention when he realized how close she was. Her arms were pressed to his. Her chest mere inches away. Her mouth—
Close enough to feel her hot breath.
“It doesn’t work if you’re really choking,” she said. “But it helps get a bit more oxygen into your lungs if you’re not, often relaxes the diaphragm enough for someone to regain their breath.”
“And if a person was really choking?” he asked.
The hint of a smile. “Heimlich is our friend.” She released his wrists but didn’t back away, and Liam found himself lowering his arms inch by careful inch in order to not scare her into putting some distance between them.
“Thank you,” he murmured, once his palms were on his knees.
Another shrug, head tilting to the side again. “What did you mean by Cheat Day?”
He chuckled. “The Gold have a very strict diet plan for the season. No dairy, no sugar, no meat for the most part, no processed foods, no extra carbs or sodium, no trans fats—”
“Is there anything you can eat?” she asked, and the humor warming those striking brown eyes had him clenching his knees in order to not reach out and tug her close, to see if she would taste like the interesting combination of sweet and tart that was her personality.
“Plant-based protein. Water—” He broke off on a laugh at her expression.
“First, water is drinking not eating,” she said. “Second, plant-based protein?” Her eyes cut to the bagel in his hands, the sausage patty clearly evident.
“As I said, Cheat Day,” he told her. “Our nutritionist is strict, but she is also realistic.”
“So bagels and coffee?” she asked, shifting back and standing. “That’s your Cheat Day?”
“Live vicariously with me.” He picked up his breakfast sandwich then hers, holding it up to her.
Her eyes went to his, held.
Then she sighed, grabbing the bagel and sitting down. She left two empty chairs between them, and he knew it was as deliberate a gesture as was Nutritionist Rebecca’s meal plan. That being, exceptionally so.
“This is you living vicariously?” she asked, glancing back and forth between the bagel and his face, expression incredulous.
“I’m a simple man.”
She snorted, rolled her eyes as she opened the wrapper. “I don’t think there’s anything simple about you.”
“Is this a case of takes one to know one?”
At his question, Mia froze and then she laughed—a tinkling sound filled with such humor, and he stared at her, wanting to capture it in his memory. He didn’t know what he’d said, but if it made her laugh like that, he’d do it again and again and again.
“I am the most boring person on the planet,” she said. “I’ve lived in San Francisco my whole life, in the same apartment. I’ve even had the same haircut—just a trim every six weeks—since I was a little girl. My dad—” She cut herself off on a sigh. “Why am I telling you this?”
“Because we have a connection,” he said, taking some of her tact and being blunt.
Her gaze flew to his, away. “You just think that because I stopped you from turning into a San Franciscan pancake.”
Liam grinned. “Maybe.” His voice gentled. “But I think it’s something else, too.”
A shake of her head. “No.”
Panic edged into the lines of her face, and he took a mental step back. He might not have been able to sleep the night before, he was so fascinated by the puzzle that Mia presented, but he was also . . . the invader here.
And if he’d learned anything about this woman from the night before, from watching her run through the routine of kicks and punches on the floor, it was that she didn’t like surprises, that she preferred everything run exactly as planned. Her life had structure and expectations . . .
Not a virtual stranger showing up at her door twice in as many days.
And yet—
Liam hadn’t been able to stay away.
Patience, he counseled himself. Slow and steady and see if she turns out to be the fascinating creature you think she’ll be.
Creature?
Wow. He was bringing the romance and charm that morning. Good thing he’d kept that thought where it belonged—in his mind.
He nudged the sandwich toward her mouth. “I promise it’s not drugged.”
Mia scowled. “And is that why you keep pressuring me to eat it?”
“Fine.” He snatched it from her, took a large bite and groaned in pleasure. “If you won’t eat it, I will.”
“Rude,” she snapped, snatching it from him. “That’s mine.” She bit off a mouthful and immediately moaned, the sound going straight to his cock. “This is delicious.”
“I know.” He took another bite from his bagel, more to shut himself up than because he could really taste the food. What he wouldn’t give to hear her make that noise again, preferably when they were both naked.
They ate quietly for the next while, the silence only broken by his laughter when Mia took a drink of her coffee, winced, and immediately set it aside.
“Not for you?” Liam asked.
“That’s like eating a straight spoonful of sugar.” She got up, went to the water fountain on the side of the studio and took a long sip. “How can you drink that crap?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I have a sweet tooth.”
She sniffed, walked back over, picked up the cup and handed it to him. “Well, I can say thanks for bringing it, but enjoy this addition to your Cheat Day.”
Shoving the last bite of bagel into his mouth, he reached for the cup she held out.
“Not going to protest?” she asked.
A shake of his head. “Absolutely not. I’ll take my sugar any way I can get it, especially on Cheat Days.”
“Oh boy.”
Liam took a sip from the mocha, which was his preferred coffee. He’d only gotten the macchiato in the first place because it was their starting goalie’s favorite drink, and she was pretty much the only female he’d gotten to know semi-well over the last few years.
He didn’t date much, and he’d been traveling or traded to different teams so often since he’d made the transition to the NHL that it was hard to grow roots.
Hell, he’d been shuffled between three teams in the course of twenty-four hours before the Gold had picked him up at the trade deadline. Liam pushed away the memory of how embarrassing it had been to be a Williamson who was so clearly on the leeward side of his career. Even until they’d retired, his brothers and father had been sought after. They’d made sure to go out on top.
But they’d also been successful from almost the beginning.
Exploding out in their rookie seasons, being valuable additions to their teams, leaders that helped their respective organizations win the Cup.
Basically, they hadn’t struggled. Unlike him.
“Not going to drink that one, too?” Mia asked.
He shook his head, more to clear the negative thoughts than in answer. “No, I have practice tomorrow and a game the day after,” he said. “I might joke about my sweet tooth and sugar-inhaling abilities, but I don’t want to go too crazy and feel like shit on the ice.”