That Time We Faked It (Time On The Ice #3)

42. CAL

CAL

Left in the Rearview

A s I stepped back to admire the floral arrangements for Wylie and Ben’s wedding, I felt his presence before he even touched me. The solid warmth of him pressed against my back, his strong arms wrapping around my waist, lips brushing just below my ear. The spot he knew turned me into jelly every time. My cock jumped at the attention, threatening to stir to life.

“You are the most talented man I’ve ever met,” he murmured, his voice like rich red velvet. “But you can leave this to the staff, darling. Everything is perfect, and yes, I double-checked your list. All good to go.”

I leaned into him, savoring the way his broad chest made me feel safe. “Just one more thing,” I replied, my voice soft but determined. “Then I’ll head up to check on the grooms.”

He made that noise—a deep, rumbling growl that vibrated through my chest and went straight south. My knees wobbled, but I steadied myself, glaring playfully as I jabbed my elbow into his side.

“Don’t do that!” I whisper-yelled, my voice barely above a hiss. “You know what happens when you get all growly. And these pants, my love, are designed to show off my ass, not hide my reaction to you.”

Wade’s laughter rolled through me, his large hands shifted lower only making my predicament worse.

“Mmm,” he hummed, his lips brushing against my ear again. “Well, that’s what you get for wearing pants that make me want to find the nearest closet, bend you over, and fuck this ass for the crime of being too hot in tight slacks.”

I stuttered, my breath hitching as my body betrayed me. “Later,” I managed, swallowing hard. “Table that thought for later. Wedding first. Fucking later.”

His low groan of disappointment sent a shiver down my spine, but I couldn’t let him distract me any further. Turning in his arms, I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath my palms. My heart . Standing on my toes, I kissed him deeply, letting it linger just enough to leave us both breathless.

“Go,” I said softly, breaking away. “I’ll meet you soon. And I promise, after the ceremony, you can have this ass any way you want, my love.”

His lips quirked into that devastating smirk as he bit down gently on my lower lip, making me gasp. “Good.”

Before I could reply, a voice broke the haze. “Come on, lovebirds! This isn’t your wedding,” William called, his tone full of teasing. “No time to outshine the grooms.”

I smiled, my cheeks warm with embarrassment but my chest full of joy. Wade stepped back reluctantly, his hand lingering on my arm before finally letting me go with an air kiss that made me laugh. As he walked away, I turned toward the wine cellar, ready to do my final check on the alcohol.

The cool air of the cellar wrapped around me as I descended the steps, clipboard in hand. This was the final detail—a quick check of the wine pairings before I could declare Wylie and Ben’s wedding officially flawless. My mind buzzed with thoughts of Wade, of his touch, of the way he’d made me feel so utterly seen. It was a warmth that stayed with me, even in the chill of the cellar.

That was, until the warmth dissipated with the sound of a voice from the shadows, sharp and deliberate.

“Well, well,” it drawled, laced with an arrogance that had me instinctively stiffening. “If it isn’t Wade’s new project.”

I stopped mid-step, my grip tightening on the clipboard as I turned to face the intruder. Danton. I didn’t need a formal introduction. His sharp suit and even sharper smirk told me exactly who he was.

“Danton, right?” I said evenly, forcing a calm I didn’t quite feel. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but that’d be a lie.”

He chuckled, low and smug, stepping out from the shadows. “And sassy, too. Interesting. Wade does love to keep himself entertained.”

I raised an eyebrow, refusing to rise to the bait. “If you’re here to contribute, the bar’s upstairs. If you’re here to sulk, you might want to find a quieter corner.”

His smirk widened, but there was an edge to it now. “Oh, I’m not sulking, sweetheart. Just making an observation. Wade’s always been... emotionally unavailable. Let’s just say I learned that the hard way.”

I tilted my head, refusing to flinch. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because,” he continued, the venom creeping into his tone, “he’ll never love anyone the way he loved Sam. No one will ever measure up, no matter how much you flounce around in tight slacks or throw yourself into his life.”

My chest tightened, anger bubbling just beneath the surface, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. Instead, I let out a soft, amused laugh. “Wow, Danton. It’s impressive, really. The way you manage to combine bitterness with delusion.”

His smirk faltered, but he quickly recovered, leaning casually against a wine rack. “You think you’re different?” he challenged. “Wade doesn’t have room for anyone else. Sam took up all the space, and now you’re just... filling the void. But what he has always wanted, was me, what we had was real, he was with a man who didn’t have mommy and daddy issues. He had someone who was solid, and you will see, he will realize that you are exhausting, and will come running back to the man he called the best fuck of his life, me. ”

I stepped closer, dropping the clipboard onto a nearby table with a deliberate thud. “Here’s the thing, Danton. You didn’t lose Wade to Sam. You lost Wade because Wade never wanted you. And if I’m being honest? I can see why.”

His expression darkened, the smirk slipping away entirely, but I wasn’t done.

“Wade and I? We’re not perfect, but we’re real. He’s not filling a void. He’s choosing me . And if that’s something you couldn’t make happen, maybe the issue isn’t Sam. Maybe it’s you.”

Turning on my heel, I headed for the stairs, but stopped just as I reached the landing. “Oh, and Danton?” I said, throwing him a look over my shoulder. “The next time you want to talk about Wade, try doing it without dragging your own insecurities into it. It’s embarrassing.”

With that, I left the wine cellar, the adrenaline still buzzing through my veins. Wade would need to hear about this later. And knowing him, he’d laugh, kiss me senseless, and remind me that nothing—absolutely nothing—could shake what we had.

The afternoon sun spilled golden light over Rossler Flats, turning the sprawling grounds into something out of a fairytale. I stood off to the side, for once without my trusty clipboard, watching as Ben and Wylie exchanged their vows beneath an arch of blush roses and greenery I’d obsessed over for weeks. It was perfect—but nothing compared to the two of them.

Wylie’s steady voice carried over the hushed crowd, his words weaving a promise of love and partnership that made my throat tighten. And Ben? He glowed, his smile so wide and unrestrained it felt contagious. Damn it. I could feel the telltale sting at the corners of my eyes. I cried all the time—happy tears, sad tears, medium tears when a dog commercial hit just right—so this was nothing new. Once again, there I was, a human sprinkler system at the absolute worst moment to be one.

Then there was Wade, standing beside Ben in a three-piece suit that made the summer heat feel tame in comparison. He wasn’t watching the ceremony; he was watching me. His expression—soft, knowing, and just a little bit amused—made me want to cry even more. He’d probably tease me later for being a "walking waterworks," but I could live with that.

Every detail I’d agonized over, from the champagne-flute-inspired lighting to the precisely placed flickering candles, had come together seamlessly. But none of it mattered as much as the way Ben and Wylie looked at each other, like the rest of the world had disappeared. When Wylie slid the ring onto Ben’s finger, his voice wavering just slightly, I had to swipe at my cheeks to keep the tears from falling in earnest.

When the officiant declared them married, the crowd erupted in cheers loud enough to rival the wind sweeping through the vineyards. But it wasn’t the applause that got me—it was the way Ben and Wylie leaned into their kiss, laughing softly like they were sharing a secret. The kind of love they had wasn’t just something you saw; you felt it.

By the time the reception rolled around, the dining area had been transformed into a wonderland of fairy lights and cascading floral arrangements. Wade’s family blended with Ben and Wylie’s friends, the air buzzing with laughter and the clink of glasses. The servers moved through the room with the precision of a well-rehearsed performance, offering trays of beautifully plated dishes I’d ensured would impress even the pickiest guest.

I watched it all from my seat beside Wade, who had taken the liberty of stealing bites from my plate when he thought I wasn’t looking. On the dance floor, Ben and Wylie swayed to a soft, romantic melody, their foreheads pressed together as if no one else existed. I dabbed at my eyes again, muttering under my breath about my apparently defective tear ducts.

It wasn’t just the day’s perfection that had me emotional. It was what their love represented—resilience, hope, and the kind of connection that makes every hardship worth it. Watching them, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something I hadn’t dared let myself believe in for years: possibility.

Wade’s hand found mine under the table, his thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles. I glanced at him, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead, I found him watching me with that same quiet warmth that always left me breathless.

The dance floor opened, I watched Wade adjust like he was going to invite me to dance, but I had my own plans brewing. After excusing myself to the bathroom, I couldn’t resist giving Wade a wink, silently setting our rendezvous for twenty minutes in one of the estate's private rooms. His smirk was pure sin, and my heart raced at the thought of being alone with him.

The hallways were quieter, the muffled sounds of celebration fading into the background. I took my time, fixing my tie in the bathroom mirror and adjusting my suit. As I stepped out, the faint sound of voices drew my attention. At first, it was just a murmur, but the tone sharpened, pulling me in like a magnet.

I turned the corner toward the lounge and froze mid-step. There stood Wade, his broad shoulders tense, his body angled toward Danton, who was leaning against the doorframe with that smug expression I had come to loathe. The words weren’t entirely clear, but Wade’s voice was low, his tone strained in a way I hadn’t heard before.

“You shouldn’t be here, Danton,” Wade said, but his voice lacked the usual conviction I relied on. “I... I’m with Cal now.”

Danton tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “With him? Come on, Wade, don’t pretend like you didn’t reply to my message last week. You’ve been keeping me on the back burner for the past year, don’t forget what we shared after your little fake boyfriend ran off after the engagement party. You are just too scared to call it off. After all, this wedding would have never happened without your pretty party planner—There is no need to act now.”

“What?” Wade stammered, his voice rising slightly before lowering again. “That wasn’t… I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Danton purred, stepping closer. “We both know you’re not over what we had. I mean, you messaged me first, remember? I’ve still got the screenshots.”

Wade’s jaw clenched, his body visibly stiffening. “Danton, I didn’t—”

I stepped closer, just within earshot, and Wade’s voice faltered as Danton continued. “It’s okay, Wade. I get it. You’re with him for now, but it’s always been us. It’s fine if you don’t want to say it out loud.”

My stomach dropped, and I felt the air leave my lungs. Wade’s hesitation, the way his words stumbled instead of coming out with the firm denial I needed to hear—it all painted a picture I wasn’t prepared to see. My feet moved before I could stop myself, and the sound of my shoes echoed sharply in the quiet hallway.

I didn’t look behind me as I heard Wade’s voice echo down the hall, “Cal, wait—”

I didn’t wait. I couldn’t. My chest felt like it was caving in, the sound of Wade’s voice calling my name barely registering over the rush of blood in my ears.

By the time I reached the vineyard path, my legs burned, and tears blurred my vision. All the progress, the love, the moments that felt so real—it all felt like it was crashing down, leaving me breathless and questioning everything. Wade had promised me forever, but in that moment, forever felt like a lie. I got back to the cottage at record time, my rehab routine not failing me, and my efforts to not completely lose my figure meant I was close to my skating fitness.

I stormed through the cottage, straight to the room where I’d woken up this morning, foolishly believing the man of my dreams was lying beside me—not a liar who’d shattered everything. My chest burned, my heart feeling seconds away from bursting as tears streamed unchecked down my face.

I tore clothes from the drawers, shoving them into my bag with frantic, trembling hands, each movement more desperate than the last.

The weight in my chest was crushing, a heaviness I knew far too well. It was the same every time—everything I touched, everything I loved, everything I dreamed of slipped right through my fingers. But this? This felt like the cruelest cut of all.

My hands shook as I dialed for a taxi. For once, luck was on my side—one was already nearby. It couldn’t get here fast enough.

I glanced around the cabin, my vision blurred with tears. It felt smaller now, colder. The warmth that had once wrapped around me here was gone, replaced by the mocking ghosts of every moment I thought things might be okay. From the parties I’d planned there—Miss Elle’s spectacular catastrophe, followed by this wedding—not a single one had reached the flawless, satisfying end I’d envisioned. Each had unraveled before I could see it through, leaving me amidst the wreckage, as always.

Because that was the pattern, wasn’t it? I couldn’t finish what I started. I couldn’t hold onto anything that mattered.

I had thought this would be different. Thought he would be different. But how could I have been so stupid? Why did I let myself believe I could have a happy ending? The signs had always been there, hadn’t they? They were always there, taunting me. My mother didn’t love me enough to stay. Eric cheated because I was too much. And now Wade… Wade. I tried to block the image from my mind, but it was impossible. The way he stumbled over his words, the way Danton leaned in, his smirk so self-satisfied, as if he knew Wade couldn’t resist. Was it true? Was Wade still hung up on Sam, on Danton? on anyone but me? My mind spun, wrapping itself around every insecurity I had. Of course, it was true. Why wouldn’t it be? No one ever stayed. No one wanted to stay.

I shoved my toiletries into the bag , pausing at the sound of tires crunching on gravel outside the cabin.

The Taxi idled as I approached, its headlights casting long beams into the quiet driveway. I threw my bag into the backseat, my pulse pounding in my ears as I slid into the car and pulled the door shut. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stay. If I did, I’d suffocate under the weight of what I’d seen, of what I’d felt.

“Airport?” the driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

“Yes,” I croaked, my voice barely audible.

I clenched my fists in my lap as the car pulled away, the house shrinking into the distance until it was nothing more than a blur. My chest tightened, my throat burned, and my mind raced, replaying every glance, every pause, every word Wade didn’t say when Danton was standing there. The last three months unraveled in my head like a tragic film reel, every moment leading to this—Wade, the man I loved, stumbling over his words, falling short of what I thought he’d say when faced with his ex.

The lights of Wade’s truck appeared in the rearview mirror, and my stomach clenched. He was chasing me. Of course he was. But I couldn’t let him catch me. I couldn’t risk hearing him confirm what I already knew deep down—that I wasn’t enough. That I never had been.

“Can you go faster?” I asked, my voice trembling.

The driver hesitated, his eyes flicking to the truck gaining on us. “Is everything okay?”

“Just—please,” I said, my hands tightening on my bag. “I need to go.”

The car picked up speed, the truck fading behind us before surging closer once more. I pressed myself back against the seat, every nerve on edge, forcing myself not to look back. I couldn’t let Wade’s voice, his presence—everything he was—pull me under again.

“Cal!” His voice cut through the night, faint but unmistakable as he shouted from the open window of his truck. My breath hitched, my vision blurring with tears.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered to the driver, my voice cracking. “Please. Just keep going.”

The car surged forward, leaving Wade’s truck behind as the road curved. I slumped against the seat, my chest heaving as I tried to hold myself together. But the weight of it all—the betrayal, the loss, the ache of being unwanted—pressed down on me until I could barely breathe.

I fumbled with my bag, pulling out my laptop, the lid flipping open as I leaned it against my knees. The screen flickered to life, the glare of it stark against the darkness of the car. My hands shook as I opened the folder I’d been working on. Its contents a chaotic mix of notes, screenshots, and bookmarked pages. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

The last place my mother skated professionally—that was the thread I’d decided to pull. I’d pieced together what little she’d let slip over the years, cross-referenced it with archival competition records, and found a single name: Glacial Ice Arena, Edmonton . It wasn’t much, but it was more than I’d ever had before. If there was a clue, a lead, something to help me find him, it had to be there.

A shiver ran through me as I stared at the address I’d scribbled into a document weeks ago. It felt surreal, sitting in that car, on that road, chasing something that had always felt like a half-forgotten dream. But now, it was more than a dream. It was a desperate hope, and I clung to it like a lifeline.

Behind me, the faint roar of Wade’s truck was gone, swallowed by the night and the hum of the taxi’s tires. The relief that should have come didn’t. Instead, there was a sharp ache in my chest, like I’d left a piece of myself behind. My hands tightened on the edges of the laptop, my breath hitching as I tried to focus on the task at hand.

“I’ll start here,” I whispered, the words trembling in the quiet of the car. “This is where she was. This is where I’ll find him.”