Chapter 22 #2
“That fucking sucks.” I should censor myself, but I’m also not under some delusion that she’s never heard the word before. And it does fucking suck. The emphasis is important. “Did you tell her that?”
She blows out a breath. “What’s the point? She’s going to ignore me anyway.”
“The point is that’s how you feel, and if she’s going to make a decision that upsets you, she should know it. She might still make it anyway, but I know from experience that keeping the feelings in makes them worse.”
Thea scuffs the blade of her skate into the ice. “I hate her.”
I’m hit with a memory, a flash of Wes and me in the parking lot of the roller skating rink, talking about my parents. I said I hated them, but really I hated that I couldn’t shake the feeling of being insignificant to them.
“I get that,” I say with a nod. “I’m not close with my parents, but I’ve got so many other people in my life who love me. And so do you. If you stay next year, you’ll have me in the stands cheering you on. That is, if your uncle hasn’t gotten rid of me.”
“He would be an idiot to do that.”
I skate backwards toward center ice, hoping she’ll follow me away from the corner of the rink and out of this pit of despair. “We’ll have to see how we do at the competition next month. Spencer wants to win, and I do too, so badly, but it’ll be a big test for us.”
Thea strides toward me. “You guys will kill it. But I didn’t mean Uncle Spencer.”
Can everyone see what’s happening between Wes and me?
I knock into her shoulder. “Okay, that’s enough outta you.”
“What happened to telling the truth?”
“Bold of you to mouth off before practice.”
“Wait. This isn’t a real practice.”
“Bet your ass it’s a real practice. And trust me, this will help improve your hockey so”—I motion toward one end of the ice—“sprint!”
She groans dramatically, but as she follows my instructions and heads toward the opposite side of the rink, I see a small smile tug at one end of her lips.
I purposefully choose to remain in the center of the ice, not wanting Thea to think she’s not getting my full attention. Her uncles remain on the bench, letting us have our space. I decide to focus on drills with Thea that can improve her skating as a hockey player.
We practice forward crossovers, then switch to backward crossovers once she gets comfortable with the drill.
I have her hopping on one skate over the blue line as she moves across the ice, and by the end, she’s glaring at me.
We end our session with Thea skating forward before turning and gliding backward in a figure eight motion.
It takes control and strength to remain upright, especially the longer your conditioning session goes.
These drills burn your legs out, but they’re one of the best ways to become a better skater.
Thea’s a strong skater, but she needs more training to reach her full potential. I want to be here next year to support her, to keep skating with Spencer and…seeing Wes.
For the first time in years, I picture the future I want with startling clarity. It’s within my reach if I can trust in my bond with the Davidson brothers.
But a voice in my mind won’t be silenced. It whispers how I’d been wrong before—with Chip, Sebastian, my parents. And I could be wrong again.
I head to the locker room after finishing my skating lesson with Thea to drop off my skates.
“Thanks for being there for her today.” Wes’s voice startles me as I head into the hallway.
I avoid his gaze. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Isla.” His hand lands on my waist, the other lifting my chin until our eyes lock on each other. “This morning she was distraught, and now she’s asking about local hockey teams and new furniture for her room. You did that. No idea how. Everything I say is wrong.”
“Benefit of not being family.” I hate myself for fishing, for needing the validation from him.
“You heard Spencer. You’re part of this ragtag clan.” He taps the side of my head, drumming his fingertips against my temple. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Today was great. I’m happy I could help.”
“Red.” His opposite hand lands on the wall beside my head.
“I thought you left.” I avoid his question because this isn’t the time or place to delve into my insecurities about skating, or about whatever is happening between us.
“I realized I forgot something.” His fingers skim across my cheek, his eyes going hazy as he stares down at my mouth.
I lift onto my toes, impatience getting the better of me. My mouth captures his bottom lip, sucking lightly before letting him go. He lets out a staggered breath, his exhale becoming my inhale.
“I meant my phone, Covington,” he says, waving it by the side of my face.
I shove him. “You are the worst.”
He reaches for my hand as I’m pulling away from him. “That’s not what you said last night.”
“Hold onto that memory.” I easily tug free of his grip and begin heading toward the yoga room for a session with Spencer. “Because it’ll be your only one.”
Lies. I’ve never wanted him more than I do in this exact moment, freshly showered, water droplets still drying on his chest visible through his unbuttoned shirt. That smile from last night returns in full force, and it’s like flowers in fresh bloom, the first glimpse of spring after a rough winter.
Being around him is easy, like we’ve skipped a few steps, blown past the stage of feeling each other out. It should concern me more, but I can’t keep my grip on that feeling with all the others lighting up my brain.
“I’d make a bet with you, but I’d hate to humiliate you,” he calls to my retreating form.
“Your arrogance is astounding.” I spin around so he can see my eye roll, but I continue to move backward. “Truly.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I want to spend more time with you. Away from the rink. Away from…everyone else. Just me and you.
He didn’t call it a date. But it is, right? More importantly, is that what I want?
“Don’t worry, Wessy, I’ve got it all marked on my calendar with little black hearts around it.”
Wes shakes his head. “You could’ve just said ‘yes.’”
I wave my hand over my shoulder as I exit the hallway and leave his sight line. It’s not until fifteen minutes into yoga that my heart gets the memo and finally calms its rhythm.