Page 29 of Breaking the Ice

The New Year's Eve party at Coach Klark's holiday home is amazing. Alec grills burgers for everyone, trying to convince us they taste better with strawberry jam than with ketchup. Mason spends the whole evening with his phone in hand, video calling his girlfriend in Germany, and Riley and I dance until our feet are sore with Cole and a few others in the living room. At midnight, a few defensive players set off a massive firework display that must have cost several hundred dollars. It's an unforgettable evening, and even though I miss Caleb, I enjoy spending New Year's with my friends.

The goodbye the next day is hard – especially with Mom. By the time I've said goodbye to everyone and hit the road, it's early afternoon. During the drive, I contemplate what I'll say to Caleb. It's not so easy, because every time I think about seeing him again, countless butterflies distract me, swirling through my stomach.

In Portland, I'm greeted by Dad. He spent his first Christmas without his family and is sentimental. To celebrate, he's cooked for us. I'd love to call Caleb first, but my phone isn't on the nightstand where I remember leaving it before heading to Aberdeen. Dad calls that the food will be ready in five minutes, so I have to wait a bit longer to make the call. I quickly jump in the shower before sitting at the table in my bathrobe. We have spaghetti Bolognese, or rather overcooked pasta with a sauce that tastes slightly burnt. But hey, it's the thought that counts. For his sake, I force myself to eat everything while we chat. He wants to know how Aberdeen was, what's new with Riley, and how I spent New Year's. He doesn't say a word about Mom. Just as I'm about to broach the subject, he starts telling me about his time here. How he hardly had to massage anyone over the holidays, partly because Caleb had a motorcycle accident. My fork slips from my hand.

“What? When?” Dad looks at me, surprised by my horror.

“The night of the playoff party.” Oh my God. My throat tightens, and my heart painfully clenches.

“What happened? Please tell me he's okay.” My father furrows his brow, but answers, “He was at the Brillant and drank way too much. I think they even had to pump his stomach at the hospital. Anyway, he went off the road on his way back with his motorcycle.”

I have to press my hands against my lips to keep from crying out in despair.

“Emma, what's wrong?”

What's wrong? I made the biggest mistake of my life. I rejected the man I desire more than anything and am responsible for his accident. There's no doubt in my mind. I'm to blame!

“How is he?” I ask with a choked voice.

“He's better now. He had to stay in the hospital for a few days. As far as I know, he was lucky, just a few scrapes.”

Oh, thank you, God, thank you!

“I didn't know you cared so much about this guy. Are you two together?”

“No, it's... complicated.”

“Complicated...” Dad's phone rings, prompting him to get up and take it from the kitchen counter where it's charging.

“Bill! Hey, everything alright?... What?... I see... Sure, I'll come. Be there in ten minutes.”

“Everything okay?” I inquire as he takes the car keys from the shelf.

“Durand pulled a thigh muscle. I have to go check it out. We'll talk later?”

“Sure.”

Dad is barely out the door when I shoot up and head to my room. Like a madwoman, I search the room for my phone. I find it in the gap between my bed's headboard and the mattress. It probably slipped in there while I was packing. As feared, the battery is dead. Damn! With trembling hands, I dig my charger out of the suitcase and plug the phone in. Then I wait impatiently, tapping my toes, until it has enough juice to turn on. It takes an eternity, but finally, it boots up. The minutes feel like hours. When it finally does, I see 497 WhatsApp messages, 49 missed calls, and 2 text messages. On an inner impulse, I open the texts first. Both are from Caleb!

First message received on December 22 at 9:36 PM:

*I've left Jessica.

My stomach glows with excitement. He left her. He actually left her!

Second message received on December 22 at 9:37 PM:

*Emma, the only woman in this world that I want is you. I won't accept your ‘no’ any longer. You belong to me, and you know it.

“Caleb,” I whisper as I sit on the bed, reading the messages again. I can hardly believe my luck. He's free, he actually left Jessica. Now nothing stands in our way. I press the phone to my chest, realizing something: Caleb sent me these messages eleven days ago. He'll think I intentionally didn't reply because I still don't want him. Damn it, I should have had the phone shipped to me. What if he got fed up with the whole thing? The thought terrifies me. Please, I can't mess this up again just because I forgot my phone! I feverishly think about what to do. The easiest would be to call him directly to sort things out. But it feels wrong. Before I realize what I'm doing, I throw on some clothes, unplug my phone, and head to Caleb's loft.

16

Caleb

At eight in the evening, a knock echoes at my apartment door. I assume it's the pizza delivery, so I open it, hardly believing who I find standing there.

“Emma,” I exclaim in surprise, stepping into the corridor and pulling the door slightly shut behind me.

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