Chapter 58
Nikolai
I turn the key in the lock, stepping into the house cautiously. It would be just my luck if Tangerine made a break for it
while I’m the one opening the door. Isabelle’s car is in the driveway, but I don’t see Cooper’s truck.
I’m still not used to the keys, just like I’m not used to the A stitched onto my jersey. Alternate captain. Cooper and the guys presented me with the sweater after practice the other day,
and I’m not ashamed to say that I got choked up. I’ve tried all season to put the loss of the captain position at UMass out
of my mind, so being able to slip back into the role again in some form is a gift. Cooper acted like the whole team came up
with the idea, but Ryder pulled me aside and told me that Cooper insisted. He wants me wearing it for our next game, at the
end of spring break—a game that, if we win, will secure us Hockey East and an automatic trip to the playoffs.
I toe off my sneakers, putting them in the hall closet, and hang up my leather jacket.
“Isabelle?” I call. “Are you home?”
I hear a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob.
She’s sitting at the kitchen island, sniffling as she feeds Tangerine a handful of cat treats. Her computer is open next to
her elbow, with papers strewn around. My heart thuds with concern.
“Hey,” I say, pressing a kiss to her hair. “What’s the matter?”
She just grabs a couple more treats, holding them out to the cat. Tangerine gives me a baleful look before nibbling on one of them. I gently pull her hand away. The bag looks suspiciously empty, and I know Penny opened a fresh one last night.
“Trying to poison the cat?” I say lightly.
Her face crumples. “No. She likes them.”
“Yeah, but maybe not quite so— There we go,” I say, easing the bag away. Tangerine leaps off the island. “Sweetheart, what’s
wrong?”
“I hate New York State.” She reaches for a napkin, blowing her nose. “And especially Nassau County.”
Of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list. My lips twitch, but I wipe the slight
amusement away when she looks over. Her eyes are swollen, her face blotchy and pink.
“What happened?”
“I messed up the permits.” Her lip wobbles. “I accidentally attached some stupid assignment for that mythology class I’m taking—”
She cuts herself off, lurching for her computer.
“Just fantastic,” she says as she peers at it. “That’s where the permits went. My professor is probably wondering why the
hell I turned in a request for a liquor license.”
I inch her computer away. “You can email your professor and explain.”
“But I have to redo the permits.” Her breath catches. “They take forever , and we have a ton of them, and New York is literally so unhelpful—and James and Bex will need to pay all the application
fees again.”
“Wasn’t it only a couple hundred bucks, altogether?”
“It’s their money. Money that they gave to me so I could handle it for them.”
“It’s a drop in the bucket for them. Don’t sweat the money.”
“It’s not even that,” she says, sliding off the stool and walking around the island. She leans against the refrigerator, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s everything. We’re on a tight timeline, and I can’t mess it up, but I’m already messing it up, so we’re behind schedule—”
“Isabelle,” I say, gently but firmly. I join her by the refrigerator, pulling her into a hug. “Take a breath. You haven’t
messed anything up.”
“I messed up the permits!”
“And that’s totally fixable. Mom knows who to contact if you need to expedite them. Why don’t you call, and I’ll—”
“No. I told her I could handle it.”
“She’s helping you.”
She shakes her head. “I told everyone I could do it.”
“You’re still doing it.” I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’ve all seen how hard you’re working. You’re doing a great
job.”
“I’m not,” she whispers. “I’m failing, Nik. And I can’t fail again. Not at this.”
I study her. She looks utterly exhausted, hair hanging limp, face devoid of makeup. Not that she needs to wear it, of course,
but usually she prefers to at least put on mascara. She’s in yesterday’s sweater, and when I glance at the island, I take
in the empty coffee cups, plural. I knew she was busy—it would be impossible not to notice—but I didn’t realize just how strung
out she was.
“Fail again?”
She swipes her eyes. “You know what I mean. Volleyball turned into a mess. I can’t fail at my own brother’s wedding, too.
But between that and school and volunteering and everything else, there’s just barely any time, and now I’m making mistakes,
and it’s just... I don’t even know.”
Shit. I’m the one who brought up the idea of volunteering, and of course that was just another thing on top of the pile. It’s been good for her—she’s full of energy and stories whenever she comes back from the high school—but that doesn’t mean it’s not a commitment. Add in spring league, and classwork, and the massive to-do list for the wedding that never seems to get smaller, and it’s no wonder she’s a ball of stress.
“If it’s too much with spring league and all of that, maybe you can take a step back.”
“I want to be doing it,” she says, an edge to her voice. “All of it. But you know what I have to prove with the wedding. To
your mom, to my family.”
“Mom already loves you.”
“My original internship with her wasn’t something I got on my own.”
“So?”
“I want to work for her, but because I earned it.”
“You’ve already—”
“And my family.” She takes in a shuddering breath. “I know they say it doesn’t matter what I do, but it matters to me, okay?
I need them to see I can do this. I... I need to see that I can do this. For myself.”
“Okay.” I pause, trying to figure out what would get through to her. “You’re already showing that you can do it. But asking
for help isn’t a bad thing. Let my mom help you with the permits and whatever else you’ve been stressing over. You need a
break.”
“Weren’t you just sick with the flu and begging to go to the rink?”
I wince. “I get it, Isabelle. But it was the right move, taking a rest.”
Maybe it’s the acknowledgment that she was right—slowing down hockey for a couple days wasn’t the end of the world—but she
softens.
“Why don’t you call my mom, get her input on the permits, and I’ll draw you a bath.”
When she’s safely tucked away in a bubble bath with a glass of iced tea and her iPad, so she can catch up on Love Island , I take a breath. Mom was happy to work on the permits, of course, but Isabelle needs more support than that. Large-scale
event planning is hard, and has so many more moving pieces than anyone ever thinks about. I don’t want her to get so wound
up that any setback will cause a meltdown like this. It’s spring break, so at least classwork can wait, but knowing her, she’ll
just use it as time to get ahead on her to-do list.
One of the stuffed animals on her bed catches my eye. A little koala.
She needs a real break. An acknowledgement of how hard she’s working, and a reset.
And I have the perfect idea.
I sit on the edge of the bed next to Isabelle. She’s still fast asleep, buried underneath her pink comforter. I can’t see
much but her dark hair and yellow-and-white striped nails, still holding her phone. Even though she followed the bath with
a nap, she worked on stuff for the wedding until late last night. I was also hard at work, but for totally different reasons.
I glance at the suitcases standing guard at the foot of the bed. I based most of what I packed for her on these nails. Her
favorite color might be pink, but I love her in yellow. She’s gorgeous in every color, of course; blue matches her eyes, and
pink is adorable, but yellow feels like the color of her soul.
My heart clenches with fondness. Once I decided on a plan, everything fell into place quickly. It’s spontaneous as hell, and
Isabelle is going to think I’m being ridiculous—a favorite word of hers, when it comes to me—but I don’t care. It’s spring
break. Our lives can go on hold for a few days. Cooper and Penny are going to see Sebastian and Mia in Europe, after all.
What better way to help her relax than to whisk her away to Australia to meet koalas?
“Isabelle,” I say, brushing a kiss to the top of her head.
After a few moments, she stirs, sitting up as she rubs her eyes. I grin; she looks cute with messy hair.
She squints at me. “What? Did I wake up late?”
“Nope.”
“I have that meeting with the florist—”
“My mom is handling it.”
She crosses her arms. To my satisfaction, she’s wearing the Rift T-shirt. If we didn’t have a plane scheduled, I’d have peeled
it off and woken her up with my tongue. “What do you mean, she’s handling it?”
“She’s taking over things for a few days so you can have a break.” I gesture to the suitcases. “We have somewhere else to
be.”
She narrows her eyes, but rises to the bait. “Where?”
“To hang out with koalas, obviously.”
She blinks. “What, at the zoo?”
“Anyone can go to the zoo. We’re going to Australia.” I grin at the wide-eyed look on her face. I ought to surprise her more
often. “There’s a koala conservatory in Brisbane, and they’re excited to meet their newest donors.”
A beat, and then she throws her arms around me, moving so fast she nearly knocks both of us off the bed. “Are you serious?
You donated to a koala conservatory for me?”
“Technically, I think we’re supporting one koala in particular. Her name is Lovey.”
“Oh my God . I love her already.”
“Then let’s go meet her.”
She shakes her head with a little laugh. “This is—”
“Ridiculous?”
“As long as you know it.”
“You need a break.” I brush my lips against her cheek. “A real one. Run away with me for a few days.”
She’s quiet for a moment, but then she nods. “Okay. Let’s do it.” She unwinds herself from me, bouncing on the bed a few times.
“Seriously, I can’t believe you. How are we getting there?”
“I convinced my grandfather to lend me the jet for a few days.” I slide off the bed, stretching. “But we have to go to a dinner
party he’s hosting right when we get back.”
It’s always something with him. Quid pro quo. At least Cricket will be there. She can finally meet Isabelle.
She does a double take at the mention of the plane, but I just shrug. “Beats commercial.”
“I need to pack,” she says, staring at her closet. “And find my passport.”
“The black suitcase is yours. And Cooper already gave me your passport from the safe. And before you ask, Ryder is taking
Tangy, since we’ll all be out of the house.”
She stops in her tracks. “You packed for me?”
“I know what I like to see you in.”
By the way she flushes, she’s having fun imagining what I picked out for her. I saunter over, cupping her jaw. She breathes
in quickly, eyes searching mine. I lean down and kiss her, morning breath and all. She smiles against my lips.
Ridiculous, yes, but so worth it. A girl like her deserves more than half measures. Hopefully, this trip can be a reset—for
both of us—and by the time we get back, she’ll be rejuvenated. Hugging a koala has to release a special kind of dopamine.
“Come on, sunshine. Let’s go hold some koalas.”