An Icicle Made for Two (Rivalry Rewritten #1)

Chapter 1 Bill Baker

one

Bill Baker

My heart slams against my chest as I drop to my knee, exactly the way I’ve practiced for months. My sweating palm trembles as I pinch my late grandmother’s diamond ring in my fingers at the perfect angle.

In a textbook reaction, just like the movies, Lacy gasps, her hand flying over her mouth. Tears well up in her eyes as she peers down at me. If I pause for any reason, I’ll lose my nerve, which is silly because there is no reason to be scared. I have loved Lacy all through high school.

We are meant to be together.

Ever since I’ve learned I’m moving to another city to realize my dream of playing in the NHL, I’m overcome with such a heavy emotional weight, I’m stuck. My chest cinches so tightly. The thought of leaving Lacy makes me not want to leave.

Getting married will ensure we stay together.

It’s perfect.

I can make both my dreams come true.

I take a deep breath and focus on her rich brown eyes, which always make my nerves dissipate. "Lacy, I never thought I’d be so lucky to meet the love of my life in high school—”

“Don’t,” she cuts me off, placing her palm over the ring, concealing it.

“It’s okay,” I say with humility. With enough emotions for both of us, I don’t hold back. She needs to know how I feel. We’ll both remember this proposal for the rest of our lives.

Her eyes grow huge, layering more tears, and she shakes her head back and forth. “Please don’t,” she squeaks out, as her lips wince into a line of emotional turmoil that don’t match any expressions of joy I’ve ever seen.

In fact, this isn’t joy at all!

Her cheeks glow red over her freckles, and she continues to shake her head rapidly. Her top teeth crash down on her bottom lip. Fear slams into my chest so hard, it threatens to knock me over. I grab my chest with my palm and push past the constriction to ask, “Lacey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not you,” she blurts out a bullet that echoes in all four chambers of my heart.

“It’s not me.” I force my lips into a smile.

“Don’t you know that's what people say when they are breaking up with someone?” A nervous chuckle slips from my lips.

When a tear slips out of her eye and trails down her cheek, I go frozen.

“You’re breaking up with me?” I blubber out, all the words jumbling together into one giant word.

This can’t be real.

We’ve never even fought.

I’m down on one knee, holding a diamond ring, and she’s breaking up with me!

I blink, waiting for her to respond to the silence she created.

She nods.

“Wait. What?” I drop the ring to my side and jolt to my feet, leveling my gaze with hers, digging into her eyes with intensity. “A nod?” She doesn’t say anything, and I go off in a full ramble, “I get a nod. A breakup nod? I don’t even get a single-word answer?”

As if mocking me, she nods again. I become unglued, waving my arms like a crazy person. “I’ve loved you every day for the last four years. I just got down on my knee, ready to beg for your hand in marriage, and all I get is a breakup nod!”

Blinking back at me, her gaze is unwavering.

“What did I do?” I reach for her hip, ready to draw her in close to give her a chance to take it all back.

She’s clearly lost her mind.

Or maybe it’s a joke?

Please, let it be a joke!

She takes a giant heart-stabbing step back, and I scream, “Why would you do this? Is this because I’m m-moving?

” I trip over my words as my breath weakens.

When I reopen my mouth to continue, I force myself to speak slower.

“You don’t have to worry about me moving.

I planned for everything to work out. We get married, and you come with—”

“I might be falling for someone else.” Her reply rings around my head, slamming over and over in my brain like a gong going off. It’s enough to make me dizzy.

I tip my head forward, partially because my head is throbbing, but also because I’ve entered into a stage of disbelief, and I rasp, “How long?”

Her lips move but her words are ghosts. Now she looks frightened with raised brows and her skin blanching paler. “I don’t know—”

“Tell the truth,” I cut her off as my shock quickly morphs into anger. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s lying. We’ve been spending our usual amount of time together, nights after hockey practice and weekends. I haven’t even had the inkling of an idea that she may be dating someone else.

“It just happened.” She raises an anti-climactic shoulder and then tacks on, “I wasn’t looking for anything.”

“Who is he?” I demand, this time grabbing her hand, taking a second to scan all her perfect fingers.

I’ve memorized the way her hands look, and having her skin against mine sends a ripple right through my chest that nearly takes my breath away.

I squeeze out, “I trusted you.” A loud phone vibration rumbles from her pocket.

Her eyes shift side to side before she replants her gaze on me, pretending to ignore her phone.

“Why don’t you answer the phone?” I taunt, as it’s all too clear what’s going on.

“It’s fine.” Her hand finds her pocket and slides inside.

I assume she’s going to silence it and pretend this didn’t happen.

A fire in my chest says, “I won’t be played anymore.

” With a quick reflex, I reach in her oversized pocket, stealing her phone right from her grip, and yank it out for us both to see the name still blinking on the screen: Blake Anton.

My teammate.

My best friend.

We’ve played hockey together since we were both in preschool, and we were the only two guys from our high school team to be signed to the NHL.

It was a huge victory for our little town, and I was proud to share the spotlight with him.

Now, my eyes narrow and nostrils flare as my gaze bounces from his stupid name back to Lacy, the woman I love more than anything.

There’s only one thing I want—revenge.

My fingers curl into the tightest fists as I vow to stop at nothing until I beat Blake.

He may have won the girl.

But I will beat him in hockey.

I will be more successful and richer than him.

I will win life.