Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Clark
My phone won’t stop buzzing.
I’m in the Christmas cabin, changing into my Santa suit when Ingrid calls. My heart squeezes, and I swipe to answer with fumbling fingers.
“You okay?” I pause with one leg in the red velvet pants. “Is it time?”
“Check your messages,” she says, sounding alarmed.
I frown, dropping the pants and pulling up my messages. The screen lights up with notifications—tags, texts, and one particular image that makes my heart lurch.
Jess and I grinning beside the mascot at the Stingers game.
The caption reads: This one’s for you, Clark.
I can’t help the smile on my face. We look so cute. Like a real couple. Even though we’d only just met, the chemistry between us is undeniable.
But before I can even hit “like,” the door slams open. Mike storms in, his face the color of an overripe tomato.
“Clark. We need to talk.”
“What’s going on?”
Mike thrusts his phone toward me. “This.”
The same photo fills the screen. But beneath it are comments. And they aren’t kind.
My jaw tightens. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I told you to stay out of the spotlight,” Mike says.
“This isn’t a scandal,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “It’s a picture. Of me and someone I care about.”
Mike shakes his head. “The parents don’t see it that way. The boosters are already calling. I can’t have this kind of distraction before the tournament.”
“So what? Are you firing me?”
Mike hesitates, which is answer enough.
I exhale slowly, forcing down the anger bubbling in my chest. “You don’t even pay me.”
“I can’t have the distraction right before the Gilded Goblet.”
Anger burns hot. “The kids don’t care who I’m dating. They just want to play hockey and have a coach who believes in them.”
“Clark—”
“You’re letting gossip run this team instead of character.” I toss the Santa suit aside and yank on my jeans. “That’s on you, not me.”
Mike looks away. “I’m sorry.”
I nod once, stiffly. “Forget about it.”
“Wait…”
But I’m already gone, walking out before he can say anything else.
Outside, the snow’s falling again. The drift of snow is light, almost peaceful. I breathe it in, the cold air burning my hot lungs. An ache builds inside my chest, and for the first time all day, I let myself feel exactly what I’m missing. Her.
Nothing else matters.
I start walking toward my truck, boots crunching in the snow. I could be angry. I could be bitter. But all I feel is a fierce, stubborn love. In the past, I would have backed off, but not now.
I pull out my phone, open the post again. That picture of us under the arena lights, smiling like the world can’t stoop us.
“She’s worth it,” I say quietly to the empty air.
Then I post a comment on her photo:
Our first game together. Here’s to many more.
I meant that smile in that photo. And I’m not sorry for any of it.
I pocket the phone and look back at the skating rink. I’ll miss coaching, but I’d rather have love.
Let them take the job, the championship.
They can’t take her.
I pocket my phone and glance back toward the rink. The lights are on, twinkling against the night sky. Guilt cuts like a knife. I’d promised to play Santa one last time before the market is over.
I should go home. Forget about it.
But I can already picture the look on their faces if Santa doesn’t show up. And Mike is too hurt to do the job right.
So I go to the rink. It’s already humming with holiday chaos. Tinny carols play through the speakers, and kids weave across the ice without a care in the world.
“Are you Clark?”
I turn and see a woman wrapped in a bright pink faux fur coat. She’s got a halo of white hair, fair skin, and bright blue eyes. I see the resemblance immediately, but it doesn’t hurt that she’s wearing a T-shirt with a graphic candle emblazoned on the front.
“You must be Jess’s grandmother.”
Her eyes twinkle with delight. “That’s a hard yes, bro.”
I laugh and stick out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She pushes aside my hand and goes in for the hug. “I knew you would be the one.”
Am I? The one for Jess?
I think I could be if given the chance. I picture our future together. Relaxed. Easy. Just like it should be between two people who are meant to be together.
“I hope she knows how special she is,” I say.
“We can all use a reminder every now and again.”
A chorus of high-pitched cheers distracts me.
“Santa! Santa!” Tiny arms wave. Kids fill the rink.
Mike gingerly takes to the ice in the Santa suit, holding onto the railing as he picks his way slowly around the rink. My heart squeezes. I should have insisted I take the last shift as Santa.
“Sorry,” I say, pulling my skates from my bag. “I’ve got a skating Santa sub out.”
“Do what you gotta do,” she says, patting me on the back.
I pull my skates out of my bag but hesitate before lacing them up. “If you see Jess before I do, let her know I—” I stop and swallow hard.
Jess’s grandmother waits patiently, her head inclined toward me. “You what?”
“I think.” I swallow hard, my feelings overwhelming me like an avalanche. “I think I’m in love with her.”
A smile lights up her face, and she points over my shoulder. “You should tell her yourself.”
I turn around and see Jess standing at the edge of the rink near the gate.
Her face in profile is lit by the twinkling lights hanging over the rink.
A warm feeling fills my chest, spreads up my neck to heat my cheeks.
If I hadn’t been sure a moment ago, I know for certain now.
This is the woman I want to show up for. I’ll never let her down.
“Uh oh.” Jess’s grandmother grabs my arm. “That’s not cool.”
I watch Jess step onto the ice, her face screwed up tight with determination. She looks so cute in her knit hat and matching scarf, it takes me a moment to realize she’s a danger to herself and everyone within arm’s reach.
“Do something!” Jess’s grandmother cries. “She’s gonna take out Santa.”
She’s heading straight toward Mike, and I realize she probably thinks he’s me. She flails and waves her arms with the grace of a baby giraffe, headed straight for Mike.
I lace up my skates and am on the rink in record time. Kids crowd the ice, but I weave around them with the ease of a man who’s been skating almost as long as he’s been walking.
My heart leaps into my throat as Jess barrels toward Mike. He deserves to be tackled for the way he treated me, but with his injured back, it’s a recipe for disaster.
I surge forward, cutting her off before she can run him over. Everything happens in slow motion. We collide. Hard.
Jess ends up straddling me, her skates pinned at an awkward angle. We’re sprawled on the ice in the tangle of her knit scarf. Gasps ripple through the crowd. Then someone laughs.
Her eyes go wide. “Clark?”
“That’s me,” I say, pulling her down for a kiss. I fight back a grin. “You might need a few more skating lessons.”
The music, laughter, and even the sting of my lost coaching job fade into the background as our mouths meet. Heat flares between us, and I don’t want to stop kissing her. Ever.
When we finally break apart, I hear the sound of cheers and applause all around us. Jess’s grandmother is the loudest voice.
“Tell her!” she yells.
I cup the back of Jess’s neck and pull her close, whispering against her lips. “I think I’m in love with you.”
“Oh!” She presses her lips to mine in a sweet kiss. “I came to find you. To tell you I’m falling for you.”
A laugh bubbles up, bright and warm in my chest. “Technically you fell on top of me.”
She groans. “Why does this always happen to me?”
“Because you’re lucky, I guess.” I get to my feet and reach down to help her up. “That makes two of us.”
Surrounded by kids and chaos and Christmas lights, we skate together, falling for each other over and over again.