chapter 13
Tip thirteen; know where the carotid artery is on your partner otherwise you may learn what a stroke looks like. Be safe.
Ivy
The arena is empty now. A far cry from the crowd that filled it only hours ago.
The rink feels bigger when it's quiet. I sit on the wooden bench in the stands, one skate half-laced, phone in my hand when it buzzes with a message from Charlotte.
Running late. Maybe 20–25 mins. Sorry!! I'll text you when I'm on my way.
I exhale slowly.
Of course.
I set my phone down and focus on threading the laces through the hooks, pulling them tight. The cold air bites at my fingers. It helps. It keeps my thoughts from drifting.
Except they drift anyway.
The game earlier.
Those two boys from Dains school.
The way they'd looked at me when they'd made those comments.
And the way Asher had reacted.
A noise echoes behind me / the heavy door at the back of the rink swinging shut.
I freeze. Fingers stilling on the laces of my second skate as I turn my head to discreetly see who else would be here so late at night.
It's almost ten, surely every would be too busy at whatever party is being thrown tonight to make their way to an empty arena.
The only idiots I know who come here when it's empty are Charlotte and me.
And Asher it seems.
His blue eyes settles on mine instantly and he changes course, headed for me.
My heart thumps once then stills.
I hadn't seen him since his sister, and I escaped from this exact arena hours earlier.
Was it so bad if I was hoping for at-least a few more hours, if not days of peace before I had to talk to him?
I know we have to talk about that . . . kiss. Had to smooth over it and set boundaries.
It can't happen again.
It won't.
My heart starts beating double time as Asher stops in front of me.
The air changes.
"I have a question."
I stay seated, avoiding looking at him as I focus on tying my laces. Maybe he'll realise I'm too much work and walk away.
One can only hope.
I pull harder on my skate laces than necessary. "I'm waiting for Charlie."
He drops down on the bench beside me anyway.
Close.
Too close.
"You didn't stay after the game," he says. "Didn't go home either."
"How did you-" my eyes settle on him and he grins. I narrow my gaze. "So, you found me here?"
"I knew you'd be here." He shrugs.
I glance away from him then. Not wanting to look at him. "Why?"
I can feel him studying me for a second.
"What those guys said-"
I cut him off.
"I've heard worse."
His eyes darken. "I haven't."
Silence settles between us.
I focus on my other skate, retying it just to keep busy.
"You're avoiding me," he says, quietly.
"I'm not."
I am.
He leans back slightly, studying my face. "Then why won't you look at me?"
I freeze, finger twisting the laces before I suddenly let them go. I look at him.
Big mistake.
His gaze drops to my mouth.
My pulse stutters. I glance away, then back at him, then away again. "Didn't you have a question?"
He grins, amused. "I already asked it."
"Did you?"
"I asked if you were avoiding me," he says slowly, "or if you're just avoiding the fact that you want to kiss me again?"
My stomach flips. "Kiss you . . . Again?" I shake my head. He looks amused at my lack of English language and mortification fills me. "I don't."
"You do."
I swallow.
"You kissed me," I counter.
"And you kissed me back."
The words hang there.
He shifts closer.
Close enough that I feel the heat coming off him.
Close enough that I stop breathing properly.
"You didn't pull away," he murmurs.
Neither do I now.
He lifts his hand.
Slow.
Not touching yet.
I should stop him. Set a boundary. We can't do it again.
But instead, I stay there. Waiting.
My heart is pounding so loud I'm sure he can hear it.
He brushes his knuckles lightly against my jaw.
And that's it.
That tiny touch.
The invisible line drawn between us. Crossed.
He leans in.
I don't move.
Our lips hover a breath apart.
"Ivy!"
Charlie's voice echoes across the rink.
I jolt back like I've been burned, stomach dropping in both freight and fear.
Asher exhales sharply, rough and frustrated. His hand drops. He stands in one smooth motion.
He doesn't look at me again as he turns on his heel and stalks off to the back exit. He's gone in seconds and then Charlotte is taking his place at my side, smiling sheepishly at me.
"I'm so sorry, the popcorn machine broke right before I was meant to clock out, and I had to stay back- and anyway. Doesn't matter. I'm here, let me just get my skates on."
I nod too quickly. "It's fine." But my eyes drift to where Asher disappeared.
She starts lacing up her skates as I stand, moving towards the rink. I know Charlie won't be far behind.
I try to clear my thoughts. The ice usually helps; it's why I come here with Charlie. Why I asked her if we could come here tonight - because I needed it after the day I'd had.
But tonight, my mind is too jumbled with thoughts and memories of Asher - that kiss in the closet, the almost kiss earlier. His hands on my jaw-
I shake my head and push myself faster.
Charlotte appears at my side, a small smile on her face as we mimic each other's moves.
I've always loved being on the ice. Charlotte and I used to practice together when we both did it for fun - before I gave it up and she started taking it more seriously.
"Hey... can I ask you something?" Charlotte sounds serious for a second and so I slow down, twisting to stare back at her and tilting my head.
"Sure. Everything okay?"
"I overheard something today." She doesn't look at me. "About you and my brother. At the party the other night. That apparently he took you into a closet-"
I laugh.
Too fast.
"People love making stuff up," I say. "You know what campus is like. Why would Asher be in a closet with me?"
"I swear they consume gossip more than they do food." She snorts. "True." She shakes her head. "I didn't believe it, but you know-" she pauses. "Maybe I misheard it but if not, should warn you there's a rumour going around."
"What's one more to add to my resume?" I retort softly.
Charlotte smiles slightly back.
"Those guys today were idiots. Don't let their words get to you, okay?"
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
We skate for a few more minute, the silence stretching between us.
I’m lying to her. Doing the one thing to her that I hate most in the world, yet I can’t seem to make myself tell her the truth. Don’t want to see how I’ve hurt her – or hear her tell me to cut it off with her brother.
I’m being selfish. I know that.
Maybe I’m more like my father than I want to admit.
The sudden realisation has me skating to a stop and charlotte looks to me, mouth opening, probably to ask if I’m okay.
I speak before she can. "I'm a bit tired, I might head home?"
Charlotte stops, her eyes flickering over me. "Are you okay?"
I nod, "Yeah, I'm just tired. Today it has taken it out of me."
But she studies me for half a second too long.
"Okay, can you text me when you get home? I'm going to stay a little longer."
I nod, pulling her into a quick hug before I move for the stand to remove my skates and grab my bag, making my exit.
· · ·
I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling like it might help me sleep but I keep replaying the almost kiss.
The way Asher looked at me.
The way my body leaned toward him without permission.
My fingers drift to my lips.
They tingle, almost like I can still feel a pair of lips against them. Asher's lips.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force myself to sleep.
And suddenly I'm back on that bench.
His hand on my jaw.
His breath mingling with mine.
What would have happened if Charlie hadn't called my name?
The thought alone sends heat low in my stomach.
My hand slides down absentmindedly. Over my collarbone. Down my ribs.
Lower.
I freeze.
This is insane.
I force myself to stop.
Breathe. I toss and turn to the side, forcing my mind on other things that aren't Asher Hudson.
Tap.
The noise has me sitting upright in bed, heart thumping.
Tap.
My heart slams against my ribs, eyes flicking to the window in alert. I get out of bed slowly, making my way to the window and pull the curtain back.
The body leaning against the tree is not what I was expecting to see and the scream that exits my mouth is surely not what my would be murderer was expecting.
The man, judging by the wide shoulders and tall physique steps forward, out of the shadow and into the glow from the street light.
I breathe a sigh of relief before blinking down at Asher.
What is he doing here?
I open the window just a crack.
"What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't sleep."
My pulse skips.
"So?"
"Can I come up?"
I shouldn't say yes.
"You shouldn't be here."
"That was not an answer, Ivy."
I really, really should tell him to leave. To forget about this whole outrageous deal.
He looks up at me with that same look from the rink.
The one that makes it hard to think.
"Let me in." He says quietly.
I hesitate.
This is a terrible idea.
But my hand is already pushing the window wider.
It's all he needs. He steps towards the house and begins climbing the wall of lattice up the side.
And then he's climbing in the window and I'm taking a step back to accommodate him.
He lands softly on my bedroom floor.
And everything inside me shifts.
"Why are you here?"
"I'm not done."
Done what?
He doesn't answer, just steps closer, eyes dragging down my body and raising a brow at the socks on my feet.
They may or may not have his sister's face on them. Embarrassment at standing with Asher in my bedroom in only my pyjamas and socks with his sister's likeness printed on them suddenly hits me.
I take a step back, closer to my bed and forcing some much needed space between us.
It doesn't last long as Asher follows my footsteps.
"Charlie didn't see me," he says quietly.
I swallow the lump in my throat. "I know."
Silence.
"You were going to kiss me," he says.
"I-" I shake my head. "You were going to kiss me."