Chapter 22 Théo
I contemplated skipping my ice time knowing Derek would be there with his earnest eyes and his gentle concern.
I had come home to a thankfully empty apartment last night—Avery must have gone out.
I jerked off furiously in the shower, my hand rough and punishing, chasing a release that felt hollow compared to what I’d walked away from.
Then I used up all the hot water while self-loathing under the spray, letting it beat against my shoulders until it ran cold.
I didn’t turn on my phone until this morning.
I wish I hadn’t read his messages. But I did.
You’re like a flower that hasn’t bloomed yet.
Who the fuck says things like that? Who means them? Derek Sullivan, apparently. Saint Sully with his poet’s heart and his gentle hands and his complete inability to recognize a lost cause when one sucked his dick and then bolted.
I left him on read and pulled up Sabrina’s flight details in my email instead.
She was flying in tonight and I was borrowing Avery’s horrendous Jeep to pick her up from O’Hare. Driving it felt like a punishment, which seemed appropriate.
Maybe I would skip ice time and contemplate my life choices instead. Then Sabrina and I could dissect in minute detail everything I had done wrong with Derek. My brother’s teammate. His mentor. My only sorta friend in Chicago.
Another stupid entanglement to add to my list of stupid entanglements.
And of course my natural reaction was to avoid him at all costs. Run away. Build walls. Pretend nothing had happened and hope it would eventually become true.
I couldn’t avoid him forever though. I had to think about Aspen.
And Avery—who would definitely notice if his brother and his mentor suddenly couldn’t be in the same room together.
And selfishly, pathetically, I liked Derek’s attention.
Even if his soft looks and softer words made me want to crawl out of my own skin.
Ever the glutton for punishment, I flung myself out of bed.
Avery’s door was closed, so he had come home at some point last night. I took a quick shower—lukewarm this time, no lingering—and changed into my skating clothes. Grabbed a protein bar for the train ride and shoved my earbuds in so I wouldn’t have to think.
He wasn’t there when I arrived.
I laced up my skates and stepped onto the ice, letting the cold air fill my lungs.
The rink was empty this early, just me and the Zamboni marks and the familiar echo of my blades cutting into the surface.
I started with edges, then moved into footwork sequences, then threw myself into jumps until my thighs burned and my mind finally, mercifully, went quiet.
I was starting to think he wasn’t coming when the doors to the rink burst open.
Derek.
He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes, hair still damp from a rushed shower, moving with less than his usual easy grace. He was wearing a Frost hoodie and joggers and he looked like he’d gotten about as much sleep as I had.
Jesus Christ. One night and I had already broken him.
He walked straight to the boards where I was catching my breath, hands shoved in his pockets. “I overslept so I have to get to weight training.” His eyes searched my face. “We didn’t finish our conversation last night.”
“Hard to talk with your mouth full.”
His jaw tightened. “Don’t.”
“Snark is a reflex.”
“Last night meant something.” His voice was quieter now. “At least to me.”
A guilty twinge pulled at my chest.
“We’re leaving again tomorrow,” he continued. “Jersey, then Philly. Are we good?”
“I wouldn’t leave Aspen hanging.” I picked at a loose thread on my glove. “I have a friend coming to town tonight. She’s here til Sunday.”
“I’ll be back Friday.” He paused and I could feel him doing the math.
Three days. Maybe Sabrina could talk some sense into me in the three days while he was gone.
Or at least help me figure out what the fuck I was doing.
“She can stay at my place with you or you can take Aspen to yours if Avery cleared it with your landlord?”
“I forgot to have him check.” I finally looked at Derek again. He was watching me with that patient expression, the one that made me feel seen in ways I didn’t want to be. “It’s fine. She’s flexible.”
“Okay.” He didn’t move. “Théo—”
“You’re going to be late for weight training.”
He exhaled slowly. “Right.” He took a step back, then stopped. “I meant what I said. In those messages. All of it.”
“I know you did.” That was the problem. “Go lift heavy things, Sully. We’ll talk when you get back.”
He wrinkled his nose at the nickname his teammates used all the time. Then he nodded once and turned toward the exit.
I watched him go, my heart doing that fluttery thing behind my ribs. Probably permanent damage to my heart from all that Adderall.
Sabrina would be here in eight hours. I had three days to figure out whether I was going to keep running or finally let someone catch me.
The ice was waiting. I pushed off and threw myself into a triple axel, and for a few seconds, I didn’t have to think about anything at all.
◆◆◆
Sabrina was easy to spot.
She was wearing denim cutoffs and a neon pink tank top that clashed spectacularly with her fiery red hair, pulling a giant silver suitcase behind her like she was heading to a photo shoot instead of arriving from a two hour flight that had been delayed an hour.
The moment she saw me, her face split into a grin and she flung herself into my arms.
I caught her with a huff of air, staggering back a step. She was small but deceptively solid, all compact muscle from years of skating. “Oof, watch my ribs,” I muttered into her hair.
“Shut up, you love it.”
I did. Not that I’d ever admit it out loud.
I took the suitcase and walked her to the car double parked on the curb. She let out a low whistle when she saw it.
“So this is Avery’s babemobile?”
“Ugh, I would hope women have better taste than that.”
“It’s as horrible as you described.” She circled it slowly, taking in the teal rims and the ridiculous custom plate. “He doesn’t need a cool car though. The tattoos and muscles probably get him laid plenty.”
“Gross, Sabrina. Don’t thirst after my brother.”
“Never.” She clutched her chest in mock horror. “That’s downright incestuous.”
I loaded her suitcase into the back and we climbed in. The Jeep roared to life with the subtlety of a freight train and I merged into the chaos of O’Hare traffic.
“How was your flight?”
“Long.” She leaned her head against the window, fanning herself dramatically. “It’s hot as balls. Where can a girl get a drink around here?”
“Don’t you want to eat dinner first?”
“I had a snack on the plane. Let’s get drunk and you can tell me everything that’s been happening here.”
We dropped off Sabrina’s luggage and Avery’s car at the apartment. Avery wasn’t home—probably at some team thing—so we didn’t linger. We walked to a bar down the block, one of those places with exposed brick and Edison bulbs that seemed to exist on every corner in this city.
Sabrina ordered an Aperol spritz. I ordered a vodka with sugar free Red Bull.
She raised an eyebrow at my choice but didn’t comment. Just nibbled on the pretzels in the basket between us and waited.
She let me take a sip before she started her interrogation.
“How are you?”
“I hate that question.”
“I hate that answer.”
I shrugged, tracing a finger through the condensation on my glass. “I’m surviving.”
She watched me for a moment, her expression softening into something more serious. “How are you really?”
“I just told you.”
“You told me nothing. That’s your specialty.” She took a sip of her spritz. “How’s the skating? How’s Avery? How’s Chicago? Made any new friends to replace me?”
“There’s no—”
“Yes, there’s no one that could replace me. Now spill.”
“Avery’s been understanding. Probably more than I deserve. Playing referee between mom and me. And keeping tabs for you apparently.” I took a longer drink. The vodka burned pleasantly. “How are things in Toronto?”
Sabrina’s face flickered—something complicated passing behind her eyes before she smoothed it away. She knew who I was really asking about.
“The same,” she said carefully. “But not really. It’s shit without you.”
“I’m sure not everyone feels the same way.”
“He’s fine, by the way. Nico.” She stirred her drink, watching the ice clink against the glass. “He’s seeing someone. Another skater from the junior program. Julien something.”
I nodded, not sure what to feel. Relief, maybe. Or guilt. The usual cocktail.
“He doesn’t blame you, you know.” Sabrina’s voice was quieter now. “For how things ended. He knows it wasn’t—” She paused, choosing her words. “He knows his uncle made it impossible. The pressure he put on both of you. The way he tried to control everything. That wasn’t your fault.”
I thought about Nico. Soft spoken, wide eyed Nico with his gentle hands and his patient smile and his complete inability to handle the disaster that was me.
He’d been so naively sweet, believing love could fix anything if you just tried hard enough.
Believing I could be fixed if he was tender enough, careful enough, good enough.
He’d been wrong.
“I still left.”
“You had to leave. Staying would have destroyed you.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Nico understands that. He’s not angry. He’s just… sad. The way everyone is sad when something ends before it should.”
I pulled my hand back and drained half my drink. “Can we talk about something else?”
Sabrina let me have the deflection. For now. “Fine. Tell me about training. What are you working on?”
I told her about my daily routine at the Frost training facility. My off-ice conditioning. The disconnect I was feeling with my body. She understood my struggles.
Sabrina listened, asked questions, offered suggestions. It was easy. Familiar. Almost enough to make me forget about Derek and his messages and the way he’d looked at me this morning—tired and hopeful and still so unbearably kind.