Page 33 of Landing Liam

But then I do.

There, near the edge of the viewing area, partially hidden behind a cluster of people, is Maggie. Her dark brown hair peeks out from under a simple beanie, and her cheeks are flushed pink from the cold. Her gloved hands are wrapped around a steaming cup of something, and for a moment, I’m frozen.

She’s looking right at me.

My heart thumps hard in my chest, and I blink, convinced I must be imagining it. But then she lifts one hand, offering me a small wave, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile.

For a split second, everything else fades away—the noise of the crowd, the chatter from Zach, the announcements blaring over the speakers. All I see is her. And in a sea of faces, somehow, I found her.

A laugh escapes me, half disbelieving, half exhilarated. The universe must be on my side today. First the run, and now this.

I raise a hand in return, my fingers tingling despite the warmth of my gloves. She doesn’t move, doesn’t wave again, just holds my gaze for a beat longer before turning back to her cup.

“Who’s that?” Zach follows my line of sight, but I shake my head, keeping my grin to myself.

“No one,” I say, feeling the excitement swell inside me. No one who just made my entire day with a single wave. And drinks tonight? Suddenly, that’s the real victory I’m looking forward to.

Chapter Fourteen

Maggie

My teeth finally stop chattering as I step into the warmth of the lodge’s lobby. The instant wave of heat wraps around me, chasing away the cold that had settled deep into my bones after hours outside. I hadn’t expected to enjoy watching snowboarding as much as I did—boys on boards hurtling themselves down a mountain with an almost reckless precision. It was thrilling, even if my fingers and toes paid the price.

The women’s runs are starting soon, but I’ve made the executive decision to watch from the comfort of a lounge chair inside. A girl can only endure so much frostbite in the name of journalism—or curiosity.

I glance around the lodge, taking in the rustic charm of the place. The stone fireplace dominates one wall, flames crackling warmly as a few spectators gather nearby with mugs of cocoa and coffee. The wooden beams overhead add a cozy, mountain-cabin feel, and the scent of pine and freshly brewed coffee fills the air. This place screams luxury, but not in an obnoxious way. More like the kind of indulgence you’d treat yourself to after a long day on the slopes.

I make my way to a chair near the window, where I can still catch glimpses of the slope through the large panes of glass. Setting my coffee down on the small table, I pull out my notebook, flipping to a fresh page. I jot down a few observations about the competition, but my mind keeps wandering.

More specifically, it keeps wandering to Liam.

I saw him scanning the crowd earlier, and for a brief moment, our eyes met. That small wave I gave him felt like an unspoken acknowledgment—of what, I’m not sure. But now, with drinks planned for tonight, my stomach flips at the thought of spending more time with him.

I really need to get my feelings in check. Nothing good can come from mixing business with pleasure. Nothing. Yet, the way Liam looked at me earlier, like I was the only person in that massive crowd, made my heart flutter. Ugh. This is supposed to be a job—a story, not some rom-com scenario where the reporter falls for the charming snowboarder. I need to focus.

The lobby fills with more people as I sip my coffee and watch from my cozy corner. Parents herd their bundled-up kids toward the fireplace, skiers peel off layers as they compare notes about their runs, and a couple near the window laughs softly over shared whispers. It’s easy to get lost in the gentle hum of the lodge, the warmth lulling me into a state of calm that feels dangerously close to contentment.

That is, until a loud burst of laughter draws my attention. A group of snowboarders spills into the lobby, all swagger and boisterous energy. Among them, of course, is Liam. His presence is impossible to miss—he commands attention without even trying. He’s still in his gear, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his smile is wide as he exchanges jokes with the guys around him.

I sink lower into my chair, my heart kicking up its pace. Of course, he’d end up here. This is his territory, after all.

As if sensing my thoughts, Liam’s gaze sweeps the room, and for a brief, electric moment, our eyes meet. His smile softens, something unreadable flickering across his face before he nods subtly in my direction.

I quickly glance down at my coffee pretending to be busy, but my fingers grip the cup tighter than necessary. He’s going to come over. I can feel it.

Stay professional, Maggie, I remind myself, even as my stomach flutters at the prospect. Stay professional.

The sound of his boots crossing the polished wood floors grows louder, each step making it harder to convince myself that this is just another story subject.

I keep my eyes glued to my notebook, scribbling nonsense words in an attempt to look busy. But I can hear him getting closer. The deliberate steps, the faint creak of his snowboard boots against the floor—it’s impossible to ignore. My stomach tightens with every sound until finally, a shadow falls over my table.

“Hey, Maggie.” His voice is warm, confident, and entirely too casual for the way it sets my nerves on edge.

I glance up, pretending to be surprised to see him. “Oh, Liam. Hi.”

“Mind if I join you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down, flashing me a grin that’s as infuriating as it is charming.

“Not at all,” I say dryly, setting my pen down. “You seem to show up everywhere I am.”