Chapter 24
The cold air of the hockey rink hits me as I push through the doors, a welcome shock to my system after the stuffy warmth of the library. The familiar sound of blades scraping against ice echoes through the empty arena.
Chris and Chase are already out there, practicing, so I climb up into the stands, finding a spot to watch them in their impromptu one-on-one.
Neither of them notices me. They’re too wrapped up in their own orbit, brothers in perfect opposition, and for a minute I just…
watch, and let the silence of it all seep into my bones.
“Come on, big brother!” Chris taunts as he steals the puck from Chase. “You're telegraphing your moves again!”
“Oh, hey, Honey,” Chase says, making Chris whip his head around, and when he spots me, a wide smile spreads across his face.
Chase takes his opportunity and snatches the puck back from his brother, then skates around him.
“If you want to impress your girlfriend, you’ve got to do a better job than that. ”
“She's not my girlfriend,” he says, and something in his voice doesn’t sound entirely convinced.
“Could've fooled me,” Chase mutters, just loud enough for me to hear, before raising his hand in greeting.
I wave back, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Don't let me interrupt your practice.”
“Too late,” Chase says with a grin, skating toward the exit. “I've got class anyway. She's all yours, bro.”
Chris mutters something under his breath that I don’t catch, then pushes off, gliding over to the door that leads to the stands. I shuffle through the seats to meet him there.
“Sorry about him,” he says as he opens the door.
“It’s okay.” I give him a forced smile because it’s not. Not really. Chase’s words were supposed to be a joke, but they don’t feel like it. Not after what Jenni said last night.
Chris tilts his head, studying me. “Didn’t think you were coming today.”
“Neither did I.” I force a shrug. “The library was packed. Needed somewhere quiet to think.”
He studies me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Everything okay?”
No, everything is not okay. I'm drowning in an internship I hate, barely keeping up with my classes, and I’m feeling increasingly awkward around my boyfriend after showing up at his place drunk last night.
I can barely look him in the eye, and now I’m here, sitting in a cold rink watching another guy play hockey instead of facing my problems. Worst of all, I'm not being honest with anyone—not Zach, not Chris, not even myself.
“Just tired,” I say instead.
Chris doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push. “Want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I'd rather watch you practice that new move. The spin thing.”
He brightens at that. “You noticed? I've been working on it all week.”
“It's impressive,” I say honestly.
“Not as impressive as Chase makes it look,” he says with a hint of jealousy behind it.
“Different styles,” I counter. “His is all flash and speed. Yours is more… controlled. Deliberate.”
Chris’s mouth twitches, fighting a grin. “Most people don’t notice the difference.”
“I’ve been watching a lot of hockey lately,” I say, smiling faintly, annoyed that I ever thought watching that, and being here would solve my problems.
He holds my gaze, and the weight of it lingers a beat too long. Long enough that I have to look down, and fuss with the hem of my sleeve.
Jenni’s words play on my mind.
“Can we talk?” I ask, my heart nearly thumping out of my chest because I know what I have to do.
“Sure. Let me grab my water, then I’ll join you.”
“Great,” I manage, my voice shaky.
I watch as he skates to the bench, removes his helmet, and takes a long drink of water. My phone buzzes in my pocket—probably Zach again, or my father, or Jenni asking what my plans are after Zach’s game on Saturday. I ignore it, as I've been doing too often lately.
Chris returns, settling onto the seat beside me, leaving a careful distance between us. The silence stretches for a moment, broken only by the rink's cooling system.
“So,” he says, his expression open and concerned, “what's up?”
I take a deep breath, deciding to be direct. “I was out with Jenni last night.”
“Yeah, she mentioned you two were going for drinks. Sorry I couldn't make it. Coach added an extra practice.”
“It's fine. Actually, it gave us a chance to talk,” I say, then add softly. “About you.”
Chris's brow furrows. “About me?”
“She, um…” I pause, searching for the right words. “She implied you might have feelings for me.”
Chris goes very still, his eyes fixed on the water bottle in his hands. For a long moment, he doesn't speak, and I begin to worry I've completely misread the situation, that I've just made a huge fool of myself.
“Chris?”
He looks up, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Jenni talks too much.”
My heart stutters. “So… it's true?”
“Does it matter?” he asks quietly. “You're with Zach. You love him, and I've always respected that.”
“It matters to me,” I insist. “I need to know if… if I've been unintentionally leading you on.”
Chris shakes his head firmly. “You haven't. I knew where we stood the moment you mentioned him. I've never expected anything more than friendship from you, Honey.”
“But you do have feelings for me?” I press, needing clarity.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“I think you're amazing,” he admits finally.
“You're smart, you're kind, you're genuine in a way most people aren't. Yes, I'm attracted to you, but I'm not pining away, waiting for you to leave your boyfriend for me. I learned the hard way it does nothing except drive me crazy.”
Part of me exhales in relief, but the other part twists with doubt. “Okay, but… I just don’t want to hurt you, Chris. You’ve been such a good friend to me, especially with everything going on lately.”
“You haven't hurt me,” he assures me. “And you won't, as long as we're clear with each other.”
“So… we're okay? Being just friends?”
Chris lets out a short, forced laugh. “Of course. I'm not over Bailey, anyway. Girl broke my heart and took it with her.”
“Right,” I say, giving him a small smile. “Your high school sweetheart.”
“Exactly. So I'm hardly in a position to be making any romantic overtures, am I?”
His tone is light, but there's something in his eyes that makes me wonder if he's being entirely truthful. Still, I'm relieved that he's not professing his undying love for me or asking me to choose between him and Zach. That's the last thing I need right now.
“I like hanging out with you, Chris,” I say sincerely. “The rink has become my sanctuary in all this craziness. I don't want to lose that.”
“I like hanging out with you too,” he says, and this time his smile seems genuine. “And you won't lose the rink. Or me. We're friends, Honey. That's not going to change.”
I believe him—or at least, I want to. But Chase's comments and Jenni's insinuations linger in my mind, making me wonder if there's more beneath the surface than Chris is willing to admit.
As if reading my thoughts, he adds, “Don't let Jenni get in your head. She likes to stir things up sometimes.”
“What do you mean?”
He hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “I just… I think she likes to create drama where there isn’t any and makes up connections that don’t exist.”
“Like between you and me?”
“Like between you and me,” he confirms. “She probably meant well, but…” He trails off, shrugging.
I think back to the bar last night, to Jenni’s pointed comments about Chris—and her suggestion that Zach was jealous. Was she deliberately trying to create tension?
“Is there anything else bothering you?” Chris asks, breaking into my thoughts. “You seem… I don't know, on edge today.”
“Just midterm stress,” I say, which isn’t a complete lie. It’s just not the whole truth. “And the internship is intense.”
Chris studies me like he knows I’m sandpapering over something but chooses not to call me out on it. He just nods. “Well, if you ever need to vent, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks.” My voice comes out softer than I intend. I glance at my watch, surprised to see the time. “I should probably go. I have a ton of reading to do before Monday.”
“Sure.” He pushes to his feet and offers me a hand. For a second, I hesitate before taking it. His palm is warm around mine, but it makes me miss the rough edges of Zach’s. “Want me to walk you back to your dorm?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, that's okay. I could use the fresh air to clear my head.”
Chris shrugs, playing with his gloves. “Suit yourself. Just try not to throw yourself under a bus while you’re at it. Would be a bitch to hose you off the sidewalk before practice tomorrow.”
The laugh slips out before I can stop it—small, reluctant, but real, breaking the awkwardness between us. “I’ll do my best.”
“Appreciated,” he deadpans as he taps his stick against the boards. “And for the record, I’m this close to finally nailing that spin move, so I expect applause next time you’re here.”
“I’ll bring a banner,” I shoot back, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
That grin. Easy, boyish, and dangerous for how much lighter it makes the air. For the first time all afternoon, the space between us doesn’t feel like a minefield. More like neutral ground.
Still, I hesitate, my fingers tightening on my bag strap. “We’re good?” The question slips out before I can stop it, quiet and tentative.
Chris doesn’t even blink. “We’re good.”
Something in me exhales, shaky and brittle, but it’s enough to keep me standing. One crisis averted.
But as I step out into the cold, the truth gnaws at me.
I can patch things with Chris. I can fake my way through midterms. I can even survive my father’s internship from hell.
What I can’t do is keep pretending my life isn’t cracking down the middle while everyone’s watching to see if I’ll break the way I always have.