Chapter Twelve
IAN
Even sitting off the ice and lacing up my skates, I’m second-guessing my idea to bring her here. And on top of that, I’m second-guessing the fact that I’m second-guessing my idea to bring her here. I have to remind myself that this isn’t actually a date—even if the amount of nervous sweat I’m producing under my hoodie says otherwise.
Delilah has been distant in the last few days; I’ve wanted to try to explain what she heard from Jack more than once since she walked out of the apartment, but not only would I not know where to start, I also worry that she meant what she said that night. That she’s not actually worried about it. That it’s just me obsessing over what she might be thinking.
Skates laced, I lean back on the bench and scan the indoor rink, noting the decent amount of people currently occupying the ice. Enough that there will certainly be pictures taken of us, but not so many that I’ll feel like we’re under a microscope. The nostalgia of being here again washes over me like a wave, bringing back memories of skinned knees and too many bruises on a much smaller me, my dad off to the sides barking at me to do it again, and right this time.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, jarring me from my memories, and a twisting feeling settles in my gut when I pull it out and see my mother’s name. We’ve talked here and there since I got back into town, but I’ve yet to go and see her. Something she hasn’t let me forget. Taking a deep breath, I answer her call and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Ian! Sweetheart. What are you doing right now?”
“Me? I’m…” I frown. I can’t really tell her what I’m actually doing, which is stressing out about a “maybe, maybe not” date with a woman I can’t stop obsessing over. I clear my throat. “I’m at the rink Dad used to take me to.”
“Oh, your father loves that place. Is he with you?”
My nose wrinkles with distaste; my father hasn’t been anywhere near the ice with me since I was at least fifteen, and as much as I wonder where he is, since my mother doesn’t seem to know, I don’t comment on that either.
“No, I’m meeting a friend.”
“A girl friend?” Mom teases.
“Mom…”
“Don’t think I don’t surf the web, too, son. I’ve seen the pictures of you and the Baker girl. Delilah? She’s so gorgeous. She was always a cute kid, but my, what a looker she grew up to be.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat; my mother has no idea how much I’m struggling with that very fact. “Yeah,” I say. “She has. But you know it’s all a stunt.”
“I don’t know,” Mom says slyly. “Those pictures looked pretty convincing.”
I snort. “That’s the point.”
“Mhm.” Her tone suggests she still isn’t quite convinced. “Whatever you say.”
“I say we’re just friends,” I stress, the words sounding weak to my own ears.
“You should bring her to dinner. Oh, that would be lovely. I could make my chowder, and we could—”
“No,” I say quickly, too quickly. I can hear the way my mom pauses, can practically see the hurt in her expression. It makes me feel even more shitty than I already do. “I just mean…” Fuck. I wish I could tell her everything. It would be nice to have someone else to comb over all the complicated feelings I’m having, but I know that’s a road I can’t go down. Not when I can’t tell her the entire truth. “I just mean…I don’t want to put any pressure on her. She’s already helping me out.”
“Oh.” My mother does her best to hide her disappointment, but I hear it. How much more disappointed in me would she be if she knew everything? “Well, that’s okay. Maybe later, yeah?”
“Sure,” I say, not sure if I actually mean it. “Later.”
“Well, I just wanted to check in with you. I miss you, son. You’ll come see me soon, at least, won’t you? I know you’ve been busy, but your old mother misses her boy.”
A painful squeezing sensation spreads through my chest, and I close my eyes against its sting. “I miss you too. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. I’ll come visit soon, okay?”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she chuckles. “I love you, Ian.”
My voice sounds a little too thick when I answer, “I love you, too, Mom.”
We say our goodbyes and I stow my phone back in my pocket, the added layer of guilt over my mother only worsening my nerves. There are so many anxious thoughts rolling around in my head, so many people to potentially disappoint that I can hardly keep up with them anymore. My mother, Lila, Abby, my father—not that it would be anything new with him—it makes it hard to breathe sometimes, the weight of it. It makes me wish things were different.
“Only you would suggest ice skating on your day off as an outing,” I hear behind me, followed by a soft chuckle.
I turn my head to see Lila approach, her hair tucked under a pink knit cap and a pensive look on her face. Those anxious feelings are still swirling inside, but at the sight of her, strangely, they almost seem to settle. Her small smile seems to almost knock away the cobwebs forming on my brain, and even if those doubts and fears still linger, they feel less overwhelming when she’s here.
It makes the feelings I keep having for her even harder to ignore.
“Too on the nose?”
She shrugs one shoulder, plopping down beside me on the bench and shucking off her shoes so she can don her own skates. “With you? I don’t know. It kind of feels right.”
I watch her tie her laces as a silence settles between us, and I can feel it, the awkward air still lingering that I’d hoped would have thinned since I last saw her. It feels like too much, seeing the obvious disappointment she’s carrying; I’ve disappointed so many people in my life, and Lila is someone I desperately don’t want to add to the list. She doesn’t look at me throughout her entire task, keeping her eyes on her skates until they’re firmly in place. Then she stands, testing her balance before moving toward the opening that leads out into the ice.
Only then does she turn back toward me, that same dull expression on her face that feels so unlike the Lila I know. Like she’s doing her best not to let her emotions show. “You coming?”
I can only nod dumbly, rising from the bench and following after her as she glides out on the ice, moving leisurely as I fall into rhythm beside her. We make an entire circle around the rink in silence before I can’t take it anymore, clearing my throat and hoping I sound more casual than I feel.
“Your skating has definitely improved,” I say, going for teasing.
She snorts under her breath. “Yeah, well, the last time you saw me in skates, I was still wearing a training bra.”
Keep your eyes on the fucking ice, Chase. You already know she’s well outgrown those. You have no reason to confirm it again.
“Right,” I answer with a weird laugh that sounds nothing like mine. “I guess it has been a while.”
“It’s been a while for all sorts of things,” she says cryptically.
I slow my pace. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” she says quickly, skating ahead and forcing me to catch up to her.
“Have you been avoiding me?”
She frowns. “I haven’t seen you. How could I avoid you?”
“I don’t know. You’ve seemed…different.”
“Have I?”
I grind to a halt, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to stop skating. “Lila.”
“Ian,” she counters almost petulantly, her chin tilting up and her eyes narrowing.
“Listen,” I huff. “I don’t really know how to fix whatever I did, but I don’t like this weirdness. I do know that what you heard from Jack the other night isn’t at all what you think it was. I’m not seeing anyone. I haven’t seen anyone since Mei. I’m definitely not bringing random women over to my place. Jack’s place. Whatever.”
She purses her lips, averting her eyes. “I told you, it’s none of my business.”
“Isn’t it?”
Her eyes snap up to meet mine, her lips parting.
Fuck.
I don’t even know what I’m doing. Maybe she really doesn’t care. Maybe I really have been worried for nothing. Why don’t I know which option sucks more?
I watch her features shift numerous times before settling onto something more her—her lips curling in a soft smile as she nods. “I believe you.” She laughs then. “Dork.”
The knot in my chest slowly begins to unwind. I shoot her a grin back.
“Excuse me. Out of the two of us, I am definitely not the dork.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Cupcake.”
I let her wrist slide through my fingers so she can start moving again, and out of the corner of my eye I can definitely notice people stopping to stare and even some blatantly taking photos.
“I think we can expect more photos on the internet soon,” I mutter.
“That was sort of the point, right?”
“Still feels weird.”
“At least there’s not too many people here.” She glances my way. “Why did you pick this place again?”
I feel my ears heat beneath my hair. “I used to practice here a lot as a kid with my dad. He had me out here every weekend and most days after school running drills.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“How come I never knew that?”
“I don’t know…” I shrug. “When I was with you guys, I didn’t really like bringing up my dad.”
“Is he still…?”
“A giant dick? Yeah.” I laugh bitterly. “Not that anyone else knows that. He’s the perfect father and husband as far as the rest of the city is concerned.”
“I don’t know,” she muses. “I’ve always thought he was kind of sleazy-seeming.”
I smirk. “Oh, have you?”
“It’s the eyes,” she says seriously. “You can always tell.”
“We have the same eyes,” I remind her.
She turns her head, her lips curling and her expression warm as she says, “No, you really don’t.”
I don’t know what to say to that, since I can’t really think over the current pounding of my heart, so I just clear my throat, nodding instead.
She catches me off guard when her fingers suddenly brush against my hand, curling around my larger ones in an attempt to hold them. I glance down at her hand, pausing on the ice. Her lips quirk as she cocks a brow, her index finger drawing a slow circle over one of my knuckles and causing a shock of awareness to prickle over my skin.
“This okay?” she asks, her gaze teasing. “Don’t want to do anything you can’t handle.”
I scoff, spreading her fingers and lacing them together with mine until I can feel the warmth of her palm in my grip. I give her hand a squeeze, trying to look as if the simple weight of her hand isn’t enough to make me feel restless, like it doesn’t make my heart race.
“I told you,” I say evenly, “I can handle whatever you can.”
I feel her give my hand a squeeze back, and it doesn’t escape me how not weird it is, what we’re doing. I clear my throat, trying to distract myself from how much smaller her hand is than mine, how holding it makes me want to hold all of her.
“Mei never liked him either,” I say offhandedly. “My dad.”
Immediately, I feel Lila tensing, her grip on my hand going stiff. “Oh?”
“Yeah, even when we were just dating, she said he seemed like he was just putting on an act.”
“I see.”
A quick glance reveals her expression to be thoughtful, her nose wrinkling slightly and her brows turned down as she watches the ice in front of her as she glides forward.
I slide my thumb against the back of her hand. “What is it?”
“Do you still love her?”
The question takes me completely off guard. “Mei?”
Lila just nods.
My mouth opens and then closes, trying to formulate an answer to her very complicated question.
“I—” I frown, thinking. I can practically feel the tension in Lila as she waits for whatever it is I’m going to say. There’s no reason for me to be so invested in the fact that she seems invested, but I am, I realize. I really am. “No,” I say finally. “If I’m being honest? I’m not sure we ever loved each other like that. She was my best friend. We helped each other through a lot of shit. I loved being there for her, and she felt the same for me. I think we both thought that was a good enough reason to get married.”
Lila is still watching the ice. “Oh.”
I don’t know what compels me to keep going, but I can’t stop now. “Her parents are…very old-fashioned. They’re very openly against homosexuality. Mei kept her bisexuality a complete secret because of that. I was the only one who knew.” I consider for a moment, remembering. “Looking back…I think she agreed to marry me because she thought it would be enough for her to be with someone she loved even if only as a friend. I think she thought that being with me would help her forget the part of herself she was hiding.”
“But it didn’t?”
“Does it ever? Hiding a part of yourself does nothing but tear you up inside. You can’t really live if you’re only doing it halfway.”
I notice her breath catch when I look at her, her eyes widening. “I…Yeah. That’s true, I guess.”
“It got too hard,” I tell her. “Being together knowing we would never feel that way. I wanted Mei to go out there and find someone she could be in love with, not just love. You know?”
“So when you split…”
“Totally amicable,” I say. “We’re still very good friends. The best, really. I love her new wife.” I grin. “Most days.”
“Wow, that’s…a lot to process.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s just not what I imagined in my head when I thought about your marriage.”
“I’m sure with nothing but those fucking pictures to go off of, it was hard to really come to any other conclusions. I mean, the entire internet is still convinced I was cheating on her the entire time.”
“I never believed that,” she says firmly, slowing her pace. “Never. You would never do something like that. You’re too steady for that.”
“You hadn’t seen me in years at that point,” I mumble. “How could you know that?”
She bites at her lower lip, looking shy all of a sudden, which is very unlike her.
“Because I’ve always seen you,” she says softly, so low I might almost miss it. “Always.”
I swallow thickly, at a loss. “Lila, about the photos, they were actually—”
She shakes her head, cutting me off. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Ian. You don’t owe me that. Not me or anyone else. I know who you are.”
God, I’ve never wanted to spill my guts to someone more than I do at this very moment, but rationally, this probably isn’t the place to reveal all my secrets.
“Thank you,” I say instead, sounding breathless. I feel that way, so I suppose it makes sense.
I tug on her hand, forcing her to stop, just holding it between us. I can’t help but stare at the sight of our clasped hands, waiting for the feeling to hit me that there’s something off about it, that there’s something not quite right, but it never comes. I hold her tighter, pulling her hand to my chest and holding it over my heart as I try to figure out how to tell her what I’m feeling. She looks down at our joined hands, then back up at me with surprise. But then I’m rewarded with her slow, sweet smile, and her fingers give mine a squeeze, and suddenly I realize I’m not looking at her at all like she’s Jack’s little sister, I’m not thinking of her like the girl I adored as a kid—no, right now she’s just…Lila. Lila with her perfect smile and her soft heart and her softer mouth that even now draws my attention.
Which reminds me.
“Lila.”
We’re both still now, just standing in the middle of the rink while God knows what is captured around us.
I watch the delicate line of her throat bob with a swallow, her face tilted up as she looks at me expectantly. “Yeah?”
“Was there really someone?” I can’t take my eyes off her, scanning her face for signs of a truth that I now realize I’m desperate to know. “Someone you used to want. Someone that didn’t see you.”
She takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly before, “I think you know the answer to that.”
My chest swells, and the urge to get closer to her is overwhelming, like a wave pulling me under, and she’s the air.
“And if…” I clear my throat. “If they saw you now? Would it be too late?”
Her lip is trembling, but her eyes…Her eyes are fucking shining.
“I think…you know the answer to that too.”
“I see you, Lila,” I tell her quietly.
Her hand trembles in mine. “Took you long enough.”
“What do we do now? I don’t—I don’t know what happens from here.”
Her mouth tilts in a sensual curve, and she closes the distance between us, the warmth of her body chasing away the chill of the ice beneath us.
“Well, considering how long I’ve been waiting…I think now? Now, you take me back to your place.”
“Jack isn’t home,” I rasp. “Physical therapy.”
Her smile is almost predatory now. “Oh, I know.”
It’s crazy, it’s ill-advised, and I have no idea what I would even begin to tell Jack, what he would say, but still…all I can think about right now is what her mouth tastes like.
And I fully intend to find out.