Chapter Seven
SOPHIE
Forty-five minutes later, the boys and I get to the rink. I throw my Ivy Glen Twin Rinks zip-up hoodie over my shoulder and follow my three charges into the rec center. I’m supposed to coach my team in less than a half hour, so there is just enough time to sit and relax for a few minutes beforehand.
I enter the rink, ready to have fifteen minutes to clear my head before coaching my rowdy team of fifteen teenage girls. All plans of relaxation die when I see Carter standing next to the rink, talking to Benson.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I jammed a finger into Carter William’s chest and yelled at him for hijacking the project to save the rec center.
In my head, I had this grand speech for the next time we’d see each other, condemning him for how he left me behind after he promised me forever. I’d demand an answer from him; Why did he leave me behind? He’d have to face nine years of pent-up anger and hurt.
But I thought I’d have at least a few more days before seeing him again. As much as I want answers, I’m not mentally prepared to face them yet. Before I can backtrack and hightail it out of there, Benson calls over to me, “Sophie! Just the girl I wanted to see.”
Making way over to them, I realize with how Carter is looking right now, I probably wouldn’t have been able to air my grievances, anyway.
Because. Hot. Damn.
It is absolutely criminal how hot he is. His black hair is messily styled in a way that is just begging my fingers to run through it. His black shirt under his flannel is tight across his muscles, and he’s wearing these dark wash jeans that I’m sure do wonderful things for his ass. And I don’t miss the way his piercing blue eyes move up my body.
My cheeks flush and it takes all my self control to not smack myself across the face. Instead, I hastily zip up my sweatshirt, acting as if it’s Carter-proof armor. I hate that after all these years, he still has this effect on me.
“What’s up, Benson?” I ask, ignoring the way Carter’s eyes darken at my flushed cheeks.
“Sophie, I was just talking to Carter here about his plans for the rink, and I would like it if you two worked together on the PR and rebuild. I don’t want a single thing done without your consent.”
Work… together?
No, no, no. That’s the absolute last thing I need to be doing with Carter right now.
Nuh uh. No way.
“I don’t think that’s the best idea?—”
He interrupts me with the click of his tongue. “Nonsense. You’ve been here a long time, you know what this place needs more than anyone. And most importantly, I trust you. Besides, I still remember how you and Carter used to spend hours on this ice.”
“I—”
“The two of you together will make Ivy Glen Twin Rinks great.” He looks at me pointedly. “It’s either that, or I’ll refuse the rebuild and let a developer turn this place into a strip mall. I’m not getting any younger, Sophie, and I want my legacy left in the right hands, or no hands at all.”
My eyes dart to Carter, who is looking at me with such intensity I have to look away. “Well?” Benson asks, looking between the two of us. “What’s it going to be?”
Carter speaks before I can say a word. “I’m in. Soph?”
Fucking hell. Talk about being backed into a corner.
“That sounds great,” I say through gritted teeth, my smile tight.
Dammit. I can’t believe that not only has he wormed his way into this project, but now I have to work directly with him. Nine years I waited to confront him so I can finally move on with my life. How am I supposed to move on if I have to see him all the time?
Benson claps us both on the shoulders, tells us to let him know when we’ve got anything he needs to sign off on, and leaves the two of us standing there.
My skin prickles in awareness, leaving goosebumps behind. It’s like my body is having some kind of pavlovian response to being alone with him.
I need to get away. Turning my attention to practice, I don’t say a word as I look toward the rink where Jordan’s practicing to check in on him. They’re doing warm-ups as Tom barks directions. “Sophie, wait!” Carter’s voice calls out from behind me.
Man, am I getting tired of hearing those words.
Ignoring him, I continue my walk to the rink. He calls my name again, and I keep my gaze ahead, giving no indication that I even hear him. I can’t believe he’s pushing me so hard. He’s already won. What more does he want? For me to be happy he came in and stole the spotlight, playing the hero? He gets to throw his money at the problem, collect on the good press, then disappear after he gets what he wants all over again. There’s nothing heroic about it.
A sigh sounds behind me, followed by a hand grabbing my arm and turning me around. “For fuck’s sake, Sophie, talk to me!”
“Leave me alone, Carter,” I spit, wrenching my arm out of his grip. He releases me easily.
He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes tired. “Look, can’t we just have a mature conversation?—”
“A mature conversation? You mean like the one we had before you waltzed into that town meeting, throwing your weight around like a big-shot rich boy hockey star? Oh wait! Your head was too far up your ass to accomplish that.” Two points to me for the fantastic imagery.
“I’m not ‘throwing my weight around,’ I’m trying to help! And you won’t even talk to me!” he says angrily.
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to try so hard to ignore you if you would just leave me alone! You’ve been doing a great job at it for the last nine years. I don’t know what’s changed now.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You fucking ghosted me, Carter!” My voice almost cracks. “You completely fell off the face of the earth, and it wasn’t because you were dead in a ditch somewhere! I know, because I saw pictures of you plastered online everywhere!” My chin lifts, daring him to deny it. It’s out there now. Now is his chance to tell me what happened. If it was all a misunderstanding…
His face has paled, and he looks like he might be sick. Well, join the club, buddy.
Of course. Betrayal hits me all over again when he says nothing to deny what happened. My insides twist, his silence bringing back emotions I’ve been pushing down for nine years. “You know what? Forget it. Just text me when you want to meet up about the rink. Otherwise… fuck. Off.”
This time he doesn’t follow me as I head to the other rink where my girls are arriving for practice, entering the locker room.
“Was that Carter Williams? Oh my god, he’s so hot.” The girls are in a tizzy, giggling and peeking at Carter, who is still staring at me with intensity in his eyes. Despite everything, his stare still sends heat down to my core.
I swallow roughly. “Yeah, and infuriating.” Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I call out, “Okay ladies, go get changed and start your warm-ups!”
That night, I toss and turn in bed, unable to get Carter out of my head. How is it that even when he’s not here, he’s torturing me? You’d think I’d be used to it by now.
The memory of the last time I saw him before yesterday is still clear in my head… it was the night of the hockey championships. I’d just played the best game of my life, my rec team dominating as we took the championship. I remember it so clearly, rushing from my rink to catch the fourth period of Carter’s final game. The way he met my eyes after shooting the winning goal in the state championship, sharing his moment of victory with me. I had been in the stands as we made our way towards each other, two magnets drawn together. The way he claimed my mouth so thoroughly that the crowd behind us sent out cheers and wolf whistles.
Then we drove to dinner, pulling over briefly to talk because I had seen a scout from Notre Dame at the game. He kissed me then too, excitement and wonder flooding him when I shared what I had heard. The scout told someone on the phone that Carter had “serious talent”. He always shared his victories with me, like I was partly responsible for them. We had talked about college a lot, and he knew I was ready to follow him wherever his hockey career took him. He made sure to tell me it’d always be me and him, no matter what. That he’d never leave me behind.
Laughing and talking over burgers and fries with Carter, Tom, Abbie, Gwen, and Jake at Sal’s that night made me think we’d have so many more evenings like that. Carefree and full of joy, always the two of us together.
That whole evening… when he declined a drink because he was the one driving, pulling me close and calling me “precious cargo”. The way we danced together like we were the only two people in the world. And that night, I remember more than anything. How I had finally been ready to give myself to him for the first time, and him to me in return. I was so nervous laying myself bare, but all that fear disappeared when I looked into his eyes and saw how much he wanted me. How his lips moved down my body?—
The chime of my phone knocks me out of my reminiscing, and I pick it up off the nightstand, scowling at the text from Carter.
Carter: Sophie, can you meet tomorrow at 5? Contractor I’m interviewing wants to do a full uninterrupted walkthrough.
He’s just doing what I told him to, but I wasn’t expecting him to be so on top of it. I reply with nothing more than a thumbs up emoji. That’ll drive him crazy.
Just like he’s driving me crazy. Because really, where does he get off looking so damn delectable? After all these years, and all he’s done, my body still reacts to him just like we’re eighteen again.
Actually, even more, if possible.
It’s going to make it ten times harder to stay mad at him when I need my anger just to get through one conversation with him without wondering what it would be like if the last nine years had never happened.