Chapter 14
Ivy
Love makes you stupid.
I say this with the utmost scientific authority.
I had read studies—okay, I had read articles in Cosmo—that said being in love floods the brain with dopamine and oxytocin, effectively mimicking the effects of cocaine.
It impairs judgment. It increases risk-taking behavior.
It makes you believe, against all available evidence, that you are bulletproof.
I was currently high as a kite on Ben Sterling.
It was Wednesday. Three days since our "motel confession." Three days since Ben had told me he loved me. Three days since we had decided that the rules of the universe didn't apply to us.
I was at the Student Union, sitting at a high-top table near the window. My laptop was open to a paper I was writing on The Evolution of Graham Technique, but my eyes were fixed on the quad outside.
Ben was out there.
He was throwing a football with Jax and Rook. It was one of those freakishly warm March days where the temperature hit fifty degrees and everyone on campus stripped down to t-shirts.
Ben was wearing a gray t-shirt that stretched tight across his chest and back. He was laughing. Actually laughing, head thrown back, teeth flashing in the sun. He looked... light. The dark cloud that usually hovered over him—the "Butcher" persona—was gone.
And it was because of me.
I smiled, biting the end of my pen. I felt a surge of pride so intense it was almost embarrassing. I had done that. I had cracked the armor.
My phone buzzed on the table.
Ben: Stop staring, Princess. You're drooling.
I jumped, looking down at the screen. I looked out the window. Ben was looking right at me, phone in hand, smirking.
Me: I'm analyzing your biomechanics. Strictly academic.
Ben: Uh-huh. And what's your conclusion?
Me: Conclusion: You have a very nice... stride.
Ben: Come down here. I need a hydration break.
Me: I'm working. And we're in public. Remember the rules?
Ben: Rules are for people who aren't in love. Five minutes. Behind the library. Or I come up there and carry you out.
I laughed out loud. A few people at nearby tables glanced at me. I didn't care.
Me: On my way.
I packed up my laptop in record time. I felt buoyant. invincible.
I walked out of the Union, weaving through the crowds of students soaking up the sun. I headed toward the back of the library—a secluded spot near the loading docks where the shadows were long and the foot traffic was minimal.
I turned the corner and saw him.
He was leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed, waiting. When he saw me, his eyes darkened with a heat that made my knees weak.
"You came," he murmured as I approached.
"You threatened to abduct me," I teased, stopping inches from him. "I was protecting my reputation."
"Your reputation is already ruined," he grinned, reaching out to hook a finger in my belt loop. He pulled me into him. "You're hanging out with hockey players. It's a slippery slope."
"I think I can handle the slope."
He kissed me.
It was supposed to be a quick hello. But the second our lips touched, the chemistry took over. It was magnetic. Volatile.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. I groaned, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his solid heat. We forgot we were outside. We forgot about the scouts. We forgot about Lila.
For a minute, we were just Ben and Ivy.
"I missed you," he mumbled against my lips. "It's been three hours."
"Tragic," I breathed. "How did you survive?"
"Barely. I need a recharge."
He kissed me again, his hand sliding down my back to cup my ass. He squeezed, pulling me tighter against his hips. I felt the hard ridge of him through his jeans.
"Ben," I whispered, pulling back slightly. "We're outside. Anyone could see."
"Nobody comes back here," he dismissed, nuzzling my neck. "Just the delivery trucks. And they don't care."
He was so confident. So sure. And his confidence was contagious.
"Okay," I whispered. "Just one more."
I kissed him again.
I didn't hear the click.
It was a faint sound. Like a twig snapping, or a shutter closing.
I pulled back sharply. "What was that?"
Ben looked up, scanning the area. "What?"
"I heard something. A click."
He looked around the corner of the building. The loading dock was empty. A squirrel ran across the pavement.
"Just a squirrel, babe," he said, turning back to me. "Or the building settling. You're paranoid."
"Maybe," I smoothed my sweater, stepping back. "We should be careful. Lila is still... prowling."
Ben’s expression hardened at the mention of her name. "Lila is all talk. She hasn't done anything."
"Yet. She threatened me, Ben."
"I know. And if she tries anything, I'll deal with her."
"How? You can't just check her into the boards."
"I have ways. Intimidation works off the ice too." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Don't worry. I've got you. Nobody is going to mess with us."
He sounded so certain.
"Okay," I said, forcing a smile. "I believe you."
"Good. Now go finish your paper. I have practice in twenty minutes."
He kissed my forehead.
"Love you," he whispered.
"Love you too."
I watched him walk away, his stride loose and confident.
I turned to go back to the library.
As I rounded the corner, I saw a flash of pink.
Just a glimpse. A bright pink coat disappearing behind a hedge fifty yards away.
My stomach dropped.
Lila had a pink coat.
I stopped, my heart hammering. Did she see us?
I waited. Nothing happened. No confrontation. No cackle of villainous laughter.
Maybe it was just another student. Pink was a popular color.
You're paranoid, I told myself. Love makes you stupid, but fear makes you crazy.
I pushed the thought away. Ben said we were safe. I had to trust him.
Two Hours Later
Dance practice was grueling.
Madame K was in a mood. She was pacing the studio like a caged tiger, correcting posture with the sharp tap of her cane.
"St. James! Your spotting is sloppy! Are you looking at the mirror or are you looking at your boyfriend in the stands?"
I flinched, missing my count. I stumbled out of a turn.
"Sorry, Madame."
"Sorry doesn't win solos," she snapped. "Do it again. From the top."
I reset. I breathed. Focus. Ben is safe. We are safe.
I danced. I threw myself into the movement, channeling all my anxiety into the sharp, angular lines of the choreography. By the end, I was dripping sweat, my muscles trembling.
"Better," Madame K grunted. "Class dismissed."
I grabbed my towel and water bottle, heading for the door.
Lila was waiting for me.
She was leaning against the lockers in the dressing room, applying lipstick in the mirror. She was wearing that pink coat.
My blood ran cold.
"Good practice, Ivy," she said, catching my eye in the reflection. "You looked... intense."
"Thanks," I muttered, opening my locker. I tried to keep my hands steady.
"Must be all that extra cardio you're doing," she said sweetly. " behind the library."
I froze.
I didn't turn around. I couldn't.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said to my locker.
"Don't you?" She turned around, leaning her hip against the metal. She pulled out her phone. "Because this looks a lot like cardio to me."
She held up the screen.
It was a photo.
It was taken from a distance, probably zoomed in, but it was undeniable.
It was me and Ben. Behind the library.
He had me pinned against the wall. My legs were wrapped around his waist. His hand was on my ass. We were kissing like the world was ending.
It was explicit. It was incriminating. It was a smoking gun.
"Cute," Lila said. "Very... romantic. I bet the Athletic Director would love it. 'Captain Sterling Violates Code of Conduct on Campus Grounds.' Catchy headline."
I felt the blood drain from my face. The room spun.
"Lila," I whispered. "Please."
"Please what?" She tapped a manicured fingernail on the screen. "Please don't ruin your life? Please don't ruin his?"
She stepped closer.
"I told you, Ivy. I want the solo. The Black Swan. Monday is the final selection."
"I worked for that solo," I said, my voice shaking. "I earned it."
"And Ben earned his spot on the team. But life isn't fair, is it?" She shrugged. "Here's the deal. You withdraw from the selection. You tell Madame K your ankle is bothering you. You let me have the solo."
"And if I don't?"
"If you don't... I send this photo to Coach Sullivan. To the Dean. To the student paper. And maybe... to a certain scout from Montreal who hates drama."
She knew about the scout. How did she know about the scout?
"How..."
"People talk, Ivy. Especially hockey players who think they're whispering." She smirked. "So. What's it going to be? The spotlight? Or the boyfriend?"
I stared at the photo.
Ben looked so happy in it. So lost in the moment.
If this got out, he was done. His dad would pull strings, sure, but the scandal would taint him. The scout would walk. His dream of making the NHL on his own merit would be over.
I looked at Lila. I hated her. I hated her ambition, her cruelty, her pink coat.
But I loved Ben more.
"Fine," I whispered. "I'll do it."
Lila smiled. It was a terrifying expression. "Good choice. You have until Monday morning. If you're on that list... send."
She pocketed her phone and walked out of the dressing room, whistling.
I sank onto the bench. I put my head in my hands.
I had just given up my dream. The showcase. The contract. The freedom.
Without the solo, I wouldn't get scouted. Without a contract, I had no money. I would have to go back to my father. I would have to beg.
But Ben would be safe.
I took a deep breath. A tear slid down my nose and splashed onto the floor.
I can't tell him, I realized. If I tell him, he'll kill her. He'll tear the school apart. He'll sacrifice himself to save me.
I had to do this alone.
That Night
The Ice Box was quiet. It was a Wednesday, which meant low-key night.
I found Ben in his room. He was lying on the bed, reading a textbook. He looked up when I walked in, his face breaking into that easy, unguarded smile that broke my heart.
"Hey, beautiful. How was practice?"