Chapter 40
Camryn
M y blade edge bit into the fresh ice with a satisfying crunch, sending a small spray of crystals across the pristine surface. In the pre-dawn darkness, the rink felt like a cave of shadows and echoes, the industrial lights casting pools of harsh white that made the untouched ice gleam like polished marble. Through the high windows, stars still pinpricked the black sky—it would be a while before sunrise.
Perfect time to skate, when the air was so cold it made my lungs ache, and the only sound was the whisper of my blades carving delicate patterns into the silence. Perfect time to be alone with my thoughts. But solitude wasn't what had dragged me out of bed at 4:30 AM, wasn't what had my stomach twisted into knots as I traced lazy figure eights across the center line.
After Owen ghosted me once and canceled our second date with a vague text, this seemed like my only option to corner him.
Just a scheduling issue, I reasoned, tracing figure-eights into the fresh ice. Nothing to worry about. But the knot in my stomach suggested otherwise.
I couldn’t help but feel like something was going on, but I couldn't figure out what it could be.
Voices echoed from the hockey hallway, followed by the distinctive clatter of gear bags hitting benches. My heart kicked against my ribs. The guys usually practiced later, but Owen was always here early, running drills with a few dedicated teammates.
His skates hit the ice before he spotted me. The moment his eyes met mine, something flickered across his face—surprise? Disappointment? It vanished so quickly I couldn't be sure. He murmured something to his teammates before pushing off toward me, each stroke measured and unhurried.
"Hey." The word came out steady, practiced—I'd rehearsed this moment enough times during my sleepless nights. My lips curved into what I hoped was a casual smile, not the desperate grimace it felt like.
"Hey." Owen's voice had that new distance to it, that careful neutrality that felt worse than anger. His eyes met mine for a fraction of a second before sliding away, focusing somewhere past my left shoulder. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean?" I forced a laugh that sounded brittle even to my ears. "I'm always here in the mornings."
"Not lately."
Typically, he would have followed that with a teasing comment about missing me. Now he just stood there, weight shifted slightly back like he was ready to retreat.
"True." I swallowed hard. "I actually came because I wanted to see you."
"Uh," he glanced back at his teammates, who were very obviously pretending not to watch us. "I'm kind of busy this morning. We're running some drills."
Each word widened the invisible gap between us. "Okay," I said slowly. "What's going on, Owen?"
"What?" He feigned confusion.
"You've stood me up twice. I've hardly talked to you at all since Jax's bachelor party. You're avoiding my texts, my calls..."
"Cam, I'm just really busy right now. School and hockey, plus Jax's wedding." He shook his head, eyes darting everywhere but my face. "It's nothing.
I wasn't convinced, but I decided to let it go. "So, do you want to go out to dinner with me tonight?"
"Yeah." He smiled, but it seemed forced. "Why don't we go to Harry's for seafood?" My face split into a grin. I loved seafood, and tonight was all-you-can-eat crab legs. "And we can figure out driving arrangements to the beach house for the wedding this weekend."
"Okay." I nodded. "I have to get to practice."
"I'll see you tonight." He shifted to leave, but I grabbed his wrist, tugging him gently.
"Do I have to ask for a kiss?"
"Oh." He shook his head and leaned in, pressing his lips to mine so quickly before disappearing that I wasn't actually sure our lips met.
I stood silent for a long moment, trying to figure out if this was in my head or if there really was something going on.
Sitting at the bar, I impatiently waited for Owen. The hostess refused to seat me until my entire party was here.
I checked my phone again. He was seventeen minutes late. I clicked on my contacts and hit his name.
Camryn: Are you running late?
Nothing…
I clicked on his name and brought the phone to my ear, but it went to voicemail after the second ring.
"What the fuck is going on?" I mumbled.
My phone vibrated.
Owen: I'm so sorry I can't make it. Practice ran late.
I pressed my lips into a tight line as I thought carefully about how to respond.
Camryn: I can wait for you. We still have plenty of time to eat.
Owen: Sorry, Cam. I'm exhausted. I'll pick you up tomorrow, and we'll ride together to the beach house.
Camryn: Okay. Good night.
I waited a long moment for a ‘good night’ response back but it never came.
As I strolled out of the restaurant disappointed, I couldn’t help but overanalyze everything. And then it hit me.
Did he know that I'd talked to Trystan the night of the bachelor party? Did he know about the deal I'd made with him? Because I'd never intended to go through with that deal. I just wanted him to leave me alone.
How would he have known?
I shook my head but honestly couldn't figure out what else was going on. We'd gone from being best friends to two people who were friendly when they ran into each other in public.
Maybe guilt over my deal with Trystan was making me paranoid. Maybe Owen really was just busy.