15. Pepper
Okay. So last night wasn’t my most decent moment.
In fact, I was very indecent.
But he was asking for it. Oh, that sounds so wrong.
He…pushed my buttons. He practically dared me. And Pepper Woods doesn’t shy away from a dare.
But boy did I want to wipe that pretty boy smirk off his face.
We’re driving to Denver after catching a quick breakfast at the bakery. I don’t blame him for not wanting to see his dad or brothers after the ambush last night.
The look on his face was priceless.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, glancing at me then focusing on the road.
It’s early and the game isn’t until seven. And Chase has nothing but revenge on his mind because he’s planned another skating session for me before his call time.
“Just thinking about the look on your face when you walked into the Inn last night.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you agreed to it.”
“You said I should hide in plain sight, right?”
“That’s not what I had in mind.” He moves his hand off the wheel and glances at the phone he’s got resting on the magnetic holder. He scrolls through what looks like an Instagram feed.
“Shouldn’t you be watching the road?”
“I need to make sure no one has close photos of you up anywhere.”
“What if they do?”
He considers it. “It depends on how close. And if it’s deliberate.”
“You mean like if it’s a mug shot or a genuine selfie with the bride to be?”
“Yeah.” He takes his eyes off his phone. “It doesn’t matter,” he determines. “You’re Pepper Woods. We’ve never heard of a Penelope Walker. And you and I will be married by spring.”
“We will?”
“No genius. That’s our story.”
Of course that’s our story. But it does make me think about the future. I can’t stay in Hideaway Springs. We’ll need to come up with a new story.
One that will affect him.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” he asks, facing the road.
“Won’t that do something to your celebrity status—a broken engagement?”
“Athletes have breakups all the time. Travel schedule, commitment issues, fear of being left at the altar.” He pins me with his icy gaze.
“I wouldn’t leave you at the altar,” I say, having no idea where that came from.
Chase sweeps his eyes over me before returning to the road.
“Because there won’t be one,” I add.
He takes a breath. “Pepper, let’s make something very clear.”
Oh this should be good.
“There may very well be an altar. And I intend on showing up. And so will you if a solid marriage is the only thing that will get Mr. Politics to back off.” There’s an edge to his voice with that last part.
“You’d do that?”
He shrugs, backtracking from the intensity of his earlier statement. “Might as well.”
I scoff with an eyeroll. “You’re so romantic.”
I’m in my uniform and call-time isn’t for another two hours. Chase and I are at the practice rink on the lower level. He stuck a note on the door that read closed for private coaching so we wouldn’t be disturbed.
I’m cold. But I’m not telling him that. Since he’s already called me a baby twice since we got here.
Chase holds the big snow broom that I’m supposed to be sweeping the ice with during intermissions while I “entertain” the crowd.
“Don’t look down,” he demonstrates. “Don’t focus on the sweeping. Just on your form and not falling.”
I cross my arms, scanning my ridiculous outfit. “Anyone realize how sexist this is? Why are women entertaining and sweeping?”
“Some teams have Ice Guys or an ‘Ice Crew’ when there’s a mix.” He grins at my pleated skirt. “But they’re a little more covered up.”
“Thank God. Still—this is super degrading. Cleaning up after you guys? What are we in the nineteenth century?”
“Says the girl who volunteered to clean my house.”
I roll my eyes.
“Could we talk about your morals later, Princess, and get your ass over here.”
I snatch my broom and cautiously skate over to him. The thing is a lot lighter than it looks.
I wobble as I circle him with it. “Don’t look down.”
“Where should I look?”
“At the other girls, at the crowd. Into space—I don’t care. Just don’t look down.”
I lift my chin.
“And smile.”
I flip my head back. “Now you’re pushing it.” Losing my focus, I fall flat on my ass.
Chase is at my side before I can blink, lifting me before sweeping ice off my hips. “You good?”
I nod.
“Let’s do it again. Once around the rink. I’m right behind you.”
Chin up. Smile. Glide.
Glide. Smile. Chin up.
The chanting triggers another part of my life and a painful pang hits my chest. Bringing back a memory of when I’d chant myself to sleep, repeating the same words in my head.
Trying to convince myself.
They’re dead.
They died.
They didn’t leave me.
I think about Chase, and it helps. About Marie Moore, my dance teacher, reminding me to keep my eyes focused on my finish point.
You won’t fall if you focus, she’d tell me.
She was right. Funny how that happens. The pros know.
They’ve fallen enough to know how not to.
So why am I still falling after all these years? Why haven’t I learned how to keep my head up and my demons from haunting me.
I fell apart in that old house. My parents took a part of me with them that day. Maybe all of me. That hollow feeling never truly went away.
Time did not heal.
It just made me scared. To never fit in. To never belong. That no matter what I do. How perfect I try to be. People will leave.
I feel dizzy.
Sick.
Where…am I?
“Pepper!” Chase catches me from behind, landing on the ice, holding me to his chest. “What was that? Where did you go?”
“Hmm?” The sound comes off as a whimper.
He twists me, searches my eyes, but I look away and try to stand.
He holds me in place and grips my chin. “Look at me.”
I bear the piercing of his eyes as studies me. “You spaced out.”
I pull back, defensively. “I did not.”
He watches me as if he could figure it out without my help.
“I’ve just had a long few days.”
He pulls me to my feet and watches me for a moment. Then, by some miracle, drops it. “Come on. Let’s take a break.”
We’re walking down the long corridor that stretches toward the locker rooms after another wasteful hour on the ice.
Chase hasn’t said much to me after I spaced out and nearly fainted. And I have a pretty good idea I know why.
“You think this was a bad idea too.”
Someone steps out of a locker room down the hall and Chase quickly grabs my hand, keeping up our ‘couple’ appearance. He waits until the footsteps fade out, then pulls my hand and presses me to the tile wall.
“No.” He licks his lips, meeting my eyes. “I think you got in your own head and I’d like to know what it was that froze you up.” His tone is almost demanding. Intimidating.
I push against his chest. “I don’t remember.”
“Like hell you don’t. What was it? You checked out, Pepper. That’s dangerous. You are not going to be alone on the ice. People will be watching. The other girls aren’t going to be expecting you to stop out of the blue. They’ll knock right into you.”
The sound of footsteps grows, two sets at least, and Chase smiles at me. A warm, sweet smile. Then strokes my cheek lightly, sending shivers down my spine as he dips his head, connecting our noses.
I barely notice the two guys passing us until one of them nudges Chase. “Wrap it up, you two. Coach gave us ten minutes.”
“That means twenty,” he says, keeping his eyes on me as they disappear down the hall.
“Let me go,” I demand in a low voice.
He pulls back. “Okay, so here’s not the place. But you’re going to tell me what that was.”
“Or else what? You’ll hand me over to my ex?”
“I wouldn’t do that, Pepper. I’m not walking away from this just because you’re a stubborn brat. It’s tempting as fuck. But I’m not quite there yet.”
A familiar buzz of excitement draws closer. The kind I recognize to be one thing.
Media.
Which means—cameras.
Chase must see my expression when the crew comes around the corner and heads straight for us.
I gasp, ducking my head in his chest.
“You’re fine.” Grabbing my arm, he pulls me down the hall until we reach a door and slip inside.
I glance around Lonnie’s office. “Are you allowed to be in here?”
“Yes.”
“Chase, I can’t go out there. I can’t. There are cameras. Real people. What if someone recognizes me? What if he—”
“You won’t be on camera. At least not close up.”
“You can’t know that. What if I fall? People will be recording from their phones and posting it all over the internet.”
His eyes drift like he hadn’t thought about that. And that freaks me out even more.
“Chase.” It’s almost a whisper scream.
He grips my shoulders. “You won’t fall.”
“I’m not ready. Can I just sit this one out?”
“No. The sooner you get out there—the sooner you have an official existence. If Pepper Woods doesn’t exist, then Penelope does. And we need to make her disappear.”
He’s right. I need to get out there tonight. My hands shake. “I’m going to fall. I’m going to space out again and fall on my ass.”
He grips my head impatiently. “Pepper, if you space out again, you’ll hit your head on the ice.” He steps closer as if it’s even possible. “You came to me with your eyes closed. How did you do that?”
I lift my gaze. “I followed a line that I drew to you.”
After a beat, the corner of his lips perks. “I promise you won’t fall.”
“I bet you I will,” I counter stubbornly.
His eyes drop to my mouth and he chuckles. “You don’t want to make a bet with me.”
“Why? You have high stakes or something? Name it.”
Chase puts his hands on my hips and presses his forehead to mine. “Loser gets on their knees.”
My chest hikes with a sharp breath. “Chase Reeves doesn’t get on his knees.”
His lip twitches. “I’ll never get down on one knee for you, Pepper. But if I did, it’ll likely be both of them.”
“You’re on.”
Another chuckle. “Pepper—”
“Afraid you’ll lose?”
He pulls back and sweeps his eyes over me. “You’re not going to fall. So start licking those lips, sweetheart.”
With that, he walks out of Lonnie’s office.