9. Definitely a masochist
9
Definitely a masochist
Exton
“You shot flying pucks at her?” Stella bellows with her arms flailing in the air. She stormed into our house exactly thirty minutes after we came back inside from our little game on the ice. How the hell she knew what we were doing is beyond me, seeing as Electra lives in the middle of nowhere.
“Honestly, I’m not sure why you’re angry— or surprised—for that matter,” Electra interrupts my ass chewing but without lifting her eyes from the book she threw at my head the other day. Something boring about figure skating. “You’re the one who sent the lunatic my way.”
“That’s it. Quinn, you are out and I’m moving Electra into my house.”
“Yeah, no,” I snort without thinking and freeze. Why the hell did I just say that? Isn’t this exactly what I wanted? To be free of her and go back to my life?
Yet today on the ice…that cry she let out…it did something to me. Something I cannot understand but when my puck hit her legs and she screamed like a banshee, I was sure she could feel something and I fucked up. Only to realize it was her way of saying goodbye to that tiny sliver of hope then and there.
My puck shattered that thin layer of ice around her heart and a dull sense of resignation washed over her. She didn’t look angry about it. She wasn’t pissed. Electra was devoid of emotions and that’s what got me.
I’ve never cared for anyone’s emotions and all that feeling crap before her. It never even crossed my mind, yet today I not only cared, I fucking felt her pain as if it was my own.
And I felt fear. Like never before.
She should be pissed. She should be angry as hell. So, the second she let go of that thread, I picked it up. And I will hold onto it, making it stronger and thicker until she not only stands but skates again.
Now this gets the little star’s attention, and she cocks her eyebrow at me. “Careful, Exton, or I might think you are a secret masochist.”
I’m starting to think there is nothing secret about it. I am one. Because with all of her jabs, curses, tantrums, and not to mention the early wakeup calls, I had the most fun in a long while.
“He’s been called worse,” Severin supplies unhelpfully from the kitchen. Why that fucker is still here, I have no idea. I also have no idea why it irritates me to no end that he just handed Electra a glass of juice.
“I have no doubt about it.” She rolls her eyes playfully at him, accepts the glass with a small smile and goes back to her book.
“Don’t you have to be at practice by five?” I send him a glare, drumming my fingers on the counter.
“I do.” He sighs as if he’s disappointed by that fact.
“How is it going?” I ask him, determined to steer the conversation away from her.
She doesn’t need this fucker’s attention right now. Or anyone else’s, for that matter. What? I’m only thinking of her wellbeing.
“Great. Fooley is really stepping it up and playing well. The line looks strong now.”
Now …it looks strong now— when I’m not there. Maybe we should’ve kept talking about Electra.
“Mhm. That’s great,” I say with as much ease as I can manage, and Sava seems to buy my response at face value but when I avert my eyes from his, a set of ice blue ones catch mine.
And those eyes? They seem to see too much.
Andddd time for another subject change. “Anyway, Stella, we are all good here, aren’t we, falling star?”
“If I have to choose between two evils, I’m sticking with Exton.”
Stella narrows her eyes at both of us. “Fine, but if I hear of any more flying pucks, there will be hell to pay.”
“No worries, you won’t hear about it,” I assure her. And I swear I hear Electra choking on a laugh, but when I look at her, she has her empty mask on and reading that boring book.
Who are you, Electra Monroe? The real you .
“I warned you, my prickly pear.” Stella gives me the universal “I’m watching you” sign, kisses the top of Electra’s head and heads out the door.
“Well, I should get going too,” Severin supplies but doesn’t look anywhere near ready to get out. And who, if not his best friend, will help him do just that?
“Okay.” I stand up, clapping my hands together. “I’ll help you load up. Let’s go.”
“Bye, Severin, it was nice to meet you,” Electra says with a small smile, one that doesn’t reach her icy eyes and doesn’t convey her interest in the guy.
Yet my eye is twitching.
Why the hell is it twitching?
“You too.” Now that smile says it all. “Maybe I can stop by sometime next week? You could show me around Iris Lake?”
“No, you cannot,” I grit out at the same time as Electra says, “Sure.”
And they both eye me with curiosity. But where Electra’s is confused, that fucker’s is smug.
“Don’t listen to that asshole. It’s not like he has any say over who comes here, and you, unlike him, are welcome anytime.” She waves me off.
Great, let’s add grinded to dust teeth to that twitching eye.
Maybe I should have taken Stella’s out and left this place because something is definitely wrong with me. Electra is a nuisance, an angry elf with psychopathic tendencies and…I’m drawn to all of that.
Yep, definitely a masochist.