Chapter 13
LIVELY
The hallway was mostly empty as I jogged toward the front of the rink, my heart beating just a little too fast, my grip a little too tight on my bag. And the second I stepped out into the front of the rink, my heart kicked against my ribs.
There she was.
Leaning against the brick wall, arms folded, one leg bent back against it, Hailey Baleman looked as effortlessly composed and aloof as ever.
Ugh. So fucking cool .
The rink lights caught the edges of her dark hair, casting a glow against her cheekbones that made the sharp angles of her face look even more devastating, and I swear something clenched tight in my chest just looking at her. Even dressed in nothing but joggers and a hoodie, she looked—
Like a freaking goddess.
Damn. I had it bad bad.
Chill. Play it cool , I told myself, as if I hadn't almost lost it in the locker room bathroom stall like a fucking virgin. Well, the keyword here was almost . At this point, I was the fucking Patron Saint of Self-cockblocks.
I still had no idea why she'd reached out to me first like this, seeing as I'd pretty much answered the only question that'd made her even bother to text me back earlier.
And, sure, we were partners now who were going to be working together closely for the next thirty days or so, but I'd figured she would only text me when she needed to.
What if she texted you now because she needed to? That was also a possibility—in fact, it was looking to be the only possibility that was true, but the anticipation...it was enough to send something electric sparking through my veins.
I forced my legs to slow as I stepped toward her, schooling my face into something casual. Her eyes lifted from her phone as she heard me approach, and our gazes locked.
“Summers,” she said when I stopped in front of her.
“Baleman.” I matched her tone, kept my expression easy. Like my pulse wasn’t trying to punch its way out of my throat. Like this was just another doggone day.
Her gaze flicked over me, assessing, and I held my breath under her scrutiny. Fuck, I hoped I didn't look like a complete loser right now. What was she seeing as she looked at me?
I'd probably never know, though, because she just unfolded her arms and ran a hand through her hair, with a tired sigh.
“Mallory wants to see you,” she finally said.
I blinked. “Mallory?”
Ha, was this because she'd found out her sister and I knew each other? Was that why she was trying to get us to come see her together?
"Yes, Mallory. My sister." There was an emphasis on the way she said that ‘my’ and made my ears perk. "The one you've been bribing with candy." Her cold eyes narrowed on me. "Which we need to talk about, by the way."
"We do?" I arched a brow back.
"Because she says you promised her some Sour Patch Kids." She sounded equally resigned and irritated, all rolled into one.
Oh. Oh, I loved that kid.
I did a mental fist pump before schooling my expression into something neutral. “Well, I can’t let her down, can I?”
Hailey rolled her eyes. “I’m literally only here because she insisted. Don’t read into it.”
Too late. I was already reading into it. Analyzing every little detail. The fact that she was here at all. That she had texted me first. That she had hesitated when our eyes met.
I was so screwed for this girl.
"Are you even listening to me?" Her lip curled down, that little crease appearing between her eyebrows—the one that meant she was fighting the urge to commit violence. God, but she was beautiful.
My cock stirred.
No. Down. Right now .
"This isn't-" She cut herself off, jaw working. "Look, she's sick. She shouldn't even be having candy."
I pressed my lips together, noting the all too audible strum of worry in her tone. And of course, I knew why she was worried.
Having a teenage sister who was battling an illness like FND would take a toll on anyone, but I also knew she couldn’t worry to the point that she took away her sister’s little joys. And candy was Mallory’s little joy.
"Which is exactly why she needs it." I took a careful step closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of her shampoo. "Sometimes the best medicine is a little contraband sugar, right?"
She stared at me for a long moment, that reluctance warring with something else in her eyes. Finally, she pushed off the wall. "You have ten minutes in the store. And you're not buying her anything else."
"Whatever you say, Hailstorm."
"I've told you to stop calling me that." She turned her head to glare at me. "Ugh, you're just looking to get hit, aren't you?" She growled.
I couldn't help my grin, or the next words that came out of my mouth. "If it's you, I'm totally into that."
Her eyes flashed, and damn if that didn't do... things to me. "I will strangle you, Summers."
"Promise?" The word came out softer than I intended, weighted with everything I couldn't say.
Like how much I loved the way she said my name, even when it was wrapped in all that disdain.
How much I wanted to hear her say it in other contexts, breathless and wanting instead of angry.
Although, her saying it angrily totally did it for me, too.
Something flickered across her face—surprise maybe, or confusion. But before I could analyze it, she was already turning away.
"Ten minutes," she repeated. "And if you make her too hyper to sleep, I'm going to make sure you never sleep again."
She was just making this too easy for me, wasn't she?
"Oh yeah?" I said, my voice going low, "There's a few things you can do to me that'll keep me up all night."
I was possibly using up all my luck flirting this blatantly in her face, but if I was going to make her notice me as more than a gnat she wanted to swat away, it was unavoidable.
"Fucking pervert." She grumbled, not even bothering to look at me. I still grinned, because I caught the red flush of the tips of her ears before she used her hair to hide it. Huh.
"Let's go." When she spoke, however, her voice was distant again. Perfectly civil. Made me want to pull her back and kiss the aloofness off of her face.
Instead, however, I fell into step beside her, still grinning like an idiot because I couldn't help myself. Not really. Because yeah, she was only bringing me along because Mallory asked. And, she probably still wanted to murder me most of the time.
But she'd texted me . She'd waited for me . And now I was going to get to spend time with her outside of the rink, even if it was just a quick stop at the store and a visit with her sister.
I wasn't going to waste this opportunity—it'd gotten my foot in the door now. It would definitely lead to more. I swore it.
"What are you smiling about?" she demanded, side-eyeing me as we walked.
She would definitely freak out on me if she knew the kinds of things I thought about, where she was concerned. So, instead of scaring her off, I said,
"Just thinking about how much you're going to love the dad jokes I've been saving up."
"I will leave you on the sidewalk."
"No you won't." I was practically bouncing as we walked. "You promised Mallory."
She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a death threat, but she didn't deny it.
Damn, just walking side by side with her like this sent my pulse skittering across my veins. Still, I managed to maintain my mask of composure. One glance at her out of the corner of her eye, and I caught her jaw ticking. Then she took in a deep breath, as if fortifying herself for something.
I found out what it was barely a split second later when she said,
"As much as we don't like each other–" and I nearly tripped over my own legs.
We don't like each other? I mean, I'd be an idiot not to notice that she didn't like me, but she really thought I didn't like her as well?
Shit, speak for yourself, woman . I thought, already knowing what manner of worms saying that out loud would unleash.
"–I think, as Captains, we should at least set a good example for our teams to follow," she continued, sounding all serious that it was stirring up all sorts of things inside me.
"Uh huh," I nodded along, amusement unfurling in my chest as I listened to her grapple with the words. She sounded like she was negotiating some kind of hostage deal or something.
"For the sake of our teams, we should at least try to be… cordial. Professional.” She bit out these words like they were jawbreakers.
And I bit the inside of my cheek. If only she knew how much I wanted to be more than ‘cordial’ with her.
“Uh huh.” I nodded, letting my amusement bleed into my tone. “Professional.”
Her eyes cut to me, sharp as skates on fresh ice, before flicking away again. “Yeah. We need to so we can all get out of each other’s hair faster.”
Faster. Right. Like hell I wanted to rush this. I’d been handed thirty days of being around Hailey Baleman—practicing with her, leading alongside her, sharing the same rink, the same spaces. And she thought I wanted to speedrun it?
Not a chance.
She cut a pointed look at me in a split second before turning back to the road. "You think you can do that?"
My beautiful Hailstorm was trying to draw a line. I could sense it. But I wasn't going to let her shut me out; not now, when I'd finally gotten this close.
So, I simply said, "I can try." Because trying didn't give the assurance of me following through. And I had no intention of following through.
No, not at all.