Chapter 23 Collin #2
“Guilty as charged, only cause sixty-nine was taken.” His grin widens. “And you’re Ellie, Iris’s best friend who...” He waits expectantly for her to fill in more details.
“Who isn’t interested in dating hockey players,” she finishes with an apologetic but kind smile. “Nothing personal.”
“Sworn off athletes entirely,” Iris adds, arranging another plate of snacks. Hayes takes the rejection with good humor, his easy smile never faltering.
“Can’t fault a guy for trying.” He fires off finger guns, earning an eye roll from Nick. “Your loss though. I’ve been told I’m a real catch.”
“By who, your mom?” I can’t resist asking, and Nick nearly chokes on his drink.
“Careful, lover boy. Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your girlfriend.” Oh, fuck. He said the G-word. My mouth goes dry instantly, heart hammering against my ribs.
Girlfriend. We hadn’t talked about that yet.
Hadn’t even talked about the kiss. I mean, I know what I want.
At least, I think I do. The certainty of it like a compass needle pointing steadily in her direction.
As long as she wants it too. Iris stills, hands freezing mid-motion as she arranges chips in a bowl.
There’s a beat of awkward silence before Nick swoops in, clapping a hand on Hayes’s shoulder.
“Hey, J-man!” Nick calls out, steering Hayes away from the kitchen.
“What do you say we show Hayes your slap shot? I think he needs another demonstration.” Jamie grins and scrambles down from the counter, Ace following happily behind him.
Amanda slides beside Iris, their shoulders brushing as she leans in to murmur something that pulls a soft laugh from Iris’s throat.
The sound of it twists something in my chest. I watch the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the delicate shell of it turning pink under the kitchen lights.
She glances at me, and I can’t read her expression.
Is she horrified? Amused? Hopeful? The uncertainty is killing me, and I need something—anything—to do with my hands before I say something stupid.
The trash can in the corner catches my eye, already overflowing with wrappers and paper plates.
Perfect. I pull the bag from the can, tying it off before I make my escape.
The short hallway offers momentary refuge, walls narrowing to funnel me toward fresh air and clarity.
But then Iris appears, materializing in the entryway like she’s been conjured from my thoughts.
The soft lamplight catches on the planes of her face, shadows pooling beneath her cheekbones, her collarbones.
“Where are you going?” I rustle the bag in my hand.
“Taking out the trash.” The bag sways between us, pathetically obvious. Her brow furrows, creating a small valley that I want to smooth away.
“Uh... I can see that. Why?” The question throws me, and I tilt my head, studying the genuine confusion in her eyes.
“Why? It’s full... What do you mean?” Iris crosses her arms, the gesture pulling her sweater tighter across her chest. Her weight shifts to one hip.
“What do you mean?” There’s a moment of suspended confusion, and then understanding crashes over me like a wave. I scrub a hand over my face, feeling the rough scratch of stubble against my palm.
“Hang on, are you telling me he never took out the trash? Ever?” I don’t need to say Owen’s name.
He exists between us like a ghost, invisible but undeniably present in the negative spaces of her life.
Iris’s eyes lower, the subtle shake of her head sending a surge of irritation through me, hot and unexpected.
“Dishes?” I ask, dreading the answer but needing to know. She clears her throat.
“Um... no?” Something softens and breaks inside me simultaneously. I reach out, unable to stop myself, and place my hand on her hip. The warmth of her seeps through the thin material of her sweater, igniting my fingertips. Her eyes lift to mine, wide and dark in the dim light of the hallway.
“Hell, Iris,” I say softly, the words meant only for her.
“The bar is so low it’s in literal hell.
” A laugh escapes me, not entirely humorous, as I mumble something about him making it too easy for me.
Her proximity is intoxicating, the scent of her filling my lungs with each breath.
I force myself to step back, to move toward the door before I do something foolish like pull her into my arms.
I stand outside longer than necessary, the winter air biting at my cheeks as I stare up at the night sky.
Something about the way her eyes widened when I pointed out the obvious—that her ex was a complete waste of space—made my chest ache.
Like she’d never considered that basic decency wasn’t some grand gesture but the bare minimum.
The trash bag sits forgotten by my feet as I try to get my thoughts in order, to cool the heat in my veins before heading back inside.
“There you are!” Jamie calls out, racing over to grab my hand. “Nick says we can watch the ball drop soon!”
“Not for a couple more hours, bud,” I correct, ruffling his hair, “and you might be in bed by then.” The fact that the kid was still going strong impressed me, considering how sick he’d been this morning.
“But I’m not tired,” he insists, tugging me toward the makeshift hockey arena we’d created. “Can you show me more moves?”
Time slipped away after that. One minute I was showing Jamie how to block shots, the next I was teaching him amateur wrestling moves, my hands gently guiding his small arms through the proper form while Iris watched from the kitchen with barely contained amusement.
Not too long after that Ellie quietly gathered her coat and purse.
She gave Iris a quick hug, murmuring something about a busy day tomorrow.
Hayes raised a hand in goodbye from his position on the floor, still letting Jamie “pin” him down.
Nick and Amanda offered their goodbyes while I helped Jamie fix his stance.
After Ellie slipped out, Iris closed the door against the cold night air and rejoined Amanda at the kitchen island, their conversation picking back up seamlessly as they sip their wine.
In the soft glow of the kitchen lights, with her head thrown back in laughter at something Amanda says, the sight of her stops me in my tracks.
She’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her.
The way she laughs, that smile that scrunches her nose, making the freckles there dance over her skin.
She’s weightless in this moment and all I want to do is freeze it.
Keep her this way for as long as I can. Forever if she’ll let me.
She deserves so much more than an empty bed and missed moments. This is what I want to be here for.
The realization hits me faster than I have time to process.
This. Them. Iris and Jamie. A hit to the back of my head has me stumbling forward as I look behind me to see Jamie and Hayes both holding sticks and pointing to each other.
Iris laughs again, head tipping back, eyes shining in the kitchen light.
My grin mirrors hers. I don’t think there’s anything in existence that’s better than that laugh. Not a damn thing.
The front door opens and in comes Beckett, grinning like a fool.
His nose is pink and he’s got the biggest, dumbest smile I think I’ve ever seen on his face.
And that’s saying something. He rubs his hands together, blowing on them before he pulls off his beanie.
The faint dusting of snow on him quickly melting from the heat of the house, leaving dark spots on his sweater.
“Dibs. Dibs so hard. Infinite Dibs.” He’s talking a mile a minute, eyes searching the room.
“What’s he talking about?” Nick hollers from the kitchen where he opens another beer, snaking an arm around his wife. Beckett ignores him. The man’s on a mission.
“Where’s Iris?” I point to the kitchen, and he turns, beelining for her. She’s got this expectant grin on her face like she already knows exactly where this is going.
“Who is the angel that just graced my presence outside?” He braces his hands on the counter, face serious as he leans forward.
Iris snorts into her wine glass, taking another sip and nodding her head.
“I gotta know.” And suddenly it all makes sense.
I shoot Hayes a lopsided grin and he rolls his eyes, throwing a pillow at my head that I dodge. Jamie snickers.
“That would be Ellie.” The look on Beck’s face is priceless. You would’ve thought she’d just told him he won a new car.
“Ellie.” He grins, saying her name like he’s testing how it feels on his tongue, savoring each syllable. That dopey smile spreads wider.
“Dude, no shot. I tried.” Hayes shakes his head, arms out wide.
“Right. You tried.” Beck points at him, brows raised with a look that earns him a glare in return. Iris chuckles, handing him a beer.
“Did she say something to you?” She ties her hair into a knot at the top of her head, pulling pieces out by her temples that coil around her cheeks. I want to touch her. He shakes his head. Taking a swig before piling food onto a plate.
“Uh, no. Pretty sure she didn’t even look up from her phone when she walked by.” He shovels food into his mouth. Shameless.
“So, she ignored you?” My voice strains as Jamie, all forty-five pounds of him, wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me down to the ground.
Headlock. Nice. I tickle his side making him laugh and spring away from me, his green eyes dancing.
I’m probably gonna regret teaching him that one.
I’m just glad he seems to have more energy than he did this morning, and that some color is returning to his little face.
“Right. Which means she’s exactly my type,” Beckett mumbles as he takes another bite, arm flailing as if this should be obvious. “You know a man loves a challenge.”
“Boy, don’t we,” I mutter, eyes catching Iris’s.
A soft pink works its way into her cheeks and she looks like she’s glowing.
Wild curls framing her face and gleaming in the light.
Six days ago I thought I’d ruined everything.
Watching her now, I realize maybe I hadn’t ruined anything at all. Maybe I’d finally done something right.