Page 33 of Breaking the Ice

Caleb

If there ever was a day that could be chalked up as a complete washout, it's today. After my futile attempts to persuade Emma that I'm not the douchebag she believes me to be, everything took a turn for the worse. Firstly, I collided with Parker during the morning training session, as he prodded for details about my previous evening. Then, Coach Thornton left no room for praise during the video analysis. And truth be told, he was on the mark; I just couldn't seem to find my stride today. To cap it off, I narrowly avoided turning my freshly mended bike into scrap metal during a hairpin turn. All day, I've been in a state of disarray, my mind unfocused. Now, I'm pacing back and forth in my living room. It's inconceivable that Jessica might be the harbinger of doom for my chances with Emma. I contemplate whether reaching out to Jess could be of any use. And then what? Sneers the unkind voice in my head. What are you going to say to her? ‘Please, assist me in winning back Emma?’ Insist that it wasn't meant in that manner? Fuck! There's simply no turn of phrase that would coax her into helping me. On the contrary, she'd likely find a way to drive a deeper wedge between us. No, I certainly won't be seeking Jessica's counsel. Perhaps, I should try giving Emma a call, attempting to engage her in conversation. No, that's a notion just as ill-conceived. She requested time to think. If I press her now, I risk sending her packing for good.

“Fuck!” I roar, hurling my phone onto the couch. It bounces off the cushion and clatters to the floor. I rub my temples, contemplating what could serve as a distraction. I don't want to face the guys right now. Given my mood, one wrong word and I might just lose it. Riding my motorcycle again doesn't appeal either. I've been out on it for three hours already today.

So, I decide to hit the hay before I'm tempted to reach for the bottle and repeat the same mistake as the night of the playoff party. It turns out to be a grueling night. I wake up repeatedly, glancing at my phone each time. I'm hoping for a message from Emma. All in vain. The next morning, I feel utterly drained, and my foul mood is even irritating me. To spare my buddies, I decide to hit the weight room and channel my aggression. I actually train until I'm so depleted that the barbell slips from my hand. Holding onto a glimmer of hope that I might run into Emma, I spend the entire day at the ice rink. To my disappointment, I only run into her father. My last hope is Toby's birthday party tonight. And indeed, she's there. My chest tightens painfully as I spot her in a jaw-dropping black dress in the VIP area. She's seated between the birthday boy and Parker. He's grinning at her like an idiot while they chat. I can feel the jealousy surging within me. Though he's my friend, I don't entirely trust him. To be honest, I don't trust anyone when it comes to Emma. So, I make haste, passing by the security guards and heading up to the VIP area. I greet the others and congratulate Toby. He's delighted with the bottle of Irish whiskey I brought him and invites me for a beer. We've barely placed our order when Byers and a few of the defensemen arrive. I leave them with Toby and settle into the armchair diagonally across from Emma. She's already noticed me and offers a smile my way. I wonder if she's had enough time to mull everything over. Damn, I hope so! Unfortunately, she doesn't seem inclined to come over and talk. That's tough. The waiter brings my beer, which I take a big swig of while studying her. She's wearing golden earrings that resemble tiny leaves. They cascade almost to her shoulders, glimmering with her movements. Her dress hugs her body like a second skin. It's shorter than the last one but has long sleeves to compensate. When she briefly turns to Toby, I catch a glimpse of the deep back neckline. I take another gulp, washing away the dryness in my throat. Perhaps I should leave, spare myself the pain of being so close yet so far. But I can't bring myself to do it. Instead, I sit there like a damned masochist, gazing at her. Her face is dangerously beautiful! Those dark, smoldering eyes...

“Durand!” Toby's voice snaps me out of it. I glance over at him. The Canadian is shaking our goalie's hand, and he's got none other than Jessica in tow. Well, look at that, she's found a new direction rather quickly, considering how desperately she wanted me back, I think to myself, shaking my head in disbelief. I watch the two of them as they sit down, and she snuggles up to him. Well, they're actually a perfect match, I contemplate. Like toilet paper and... well, you get the idea. I redirect my attention to Emma, who is also observing the newcomers. I wonder what's going through her mind now.

“Listen up, everyone!” Toby calls out, handing his sweetheart a monstrous piece of that triangular Swiss chocolate we all love. Mandy needs both hands for that monstrosity. “As the Devils' betting officer, I have an announcement to make! Parker and Durand approached me with a request to settle their bet before the agreed-upon date!”

And I know exactly why they want that. They're scared stiff. I know from Parker that the thought of facing his personal little puck hell at the end of the season is eating away at him. The two of them want to get it over with. “And so, after careful consideration...” Toby pauses dramatically, then raises his hands authoritatively. “... I've decided to grant their request and move the date to tomorrow night at eight o'clock!” Applause erupts, which Toby, in his role as betting officer, solemnly acknowledges. Internally, I chuckle. Show-off. All that's left is for him to take a bow. He sits back down with his girlfriend, who plants a kiss on him, then gets up and goes over to Emma. At first, I think she intends to squeeze herself in between my girl and Parker. But then I see her extend her hand, pulling Emma to her feet. Emma shoots me a brief, electrifying glance as she passes by with Mandy. Fuck! It's only now that I notice how deep the back of her dress is cut. The fabric barely covers her butt. My cock responds automatically as my gaze travels up her spine, discovering a tattoo I'm unfamiliar with. It's a kind of tribal design from which a rose blossoms. Is that new, or was it already there two days ago when she writhed beneath me in my bed? I can't recall seeing it. A thought stirs in my mind. A promise to myself. If I manage to get this woman in my bed again, I'll explore every inch of her body. That's as certain as the Amen in church.

I watch Mandy and Emma, who are heading downstairs past the security guards, making their way to the dance floor. Dammit, in this dress, she'll practically be inviting men to touch her on the dance floor. My hands start to sweat with anger. I should follow her, make sure no one gets too close.

“Well, Whyler!” Durand's voice interrupts my thoughts. He stands above me, wearing a smug grin and holding a bottle of beer. What does he want now? I get up, not liking the way he's looking down on me.

“What do you want, Durand?” Standing tall, it's me now looking down at him. But that doesn't seem to faze him; he still regards me with that smug expression.

“Looks like I'll soon be Mr. Flake's favorite,” he remarks.

“Because you're banging his daughter?” I retort with a laugh. “Keep dreaming.” While Carl wasn't exactly thrilled that I left Jess, it hasn't changed my position as his star forward. He knows I'm his best man.

“Well, you see, it's the whole package. You're sabotaging yourself. First, you lose it at Jessica's gallery opening, then you break up with her, and lately, you're even faltering in training. Looks pretty bad for you, don't you think?”

“The only thing that looks bad is the stench coming out of your mouth. Now, get out of my way.” I shove the Canadian aside and stride towards the bathrooms, determined to avoid any confrontation, whether with Durand or any guy getting too close to Emma. As I approach the hallway leading to the restrooms, I'm about to pass the ladies' room when someone grabs me and pulls me inside.

“What the... Jess!” I exclaim, irritated when I see who it is. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You're about to find out,” she hisses. A girl at the sink, washing her hands, spots us.

“Hey, what's this? This is the women's restroom!” she scolds.

“Yes, and this is important,” Jess replies, grabbing her by the arm and roughly pushing her out the door.

“You're crazy, you stupid bitch!” the stranger grumbles, but Jess doesn't engage with her. Instead, she shuts the door behind her and leans against it, preventing anyone else from entering.

“So, what do you want?” I ask, exasperated, crossing my arms. I shouldn't even be speaking to this witch after she stirred up trouble between Emma and me yesterday.

“I want you to make a decision.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous. I have no idea what's going through your crazy head, but you're definitely not going to dictate decisions to me. I'm sorry you're hurt. I'm also sorry I used you. It wasn't right of me and there's no excuse. I get that. But you have to move on from our breakup.”

“Oh, I will move on, in my own way. And that's why you'll decide.”

“Her or you?” I furrow my brow. Her or me?

“Either I ensure Emma loses her job and goes back to the backwater town she came from, or I make sure you get kicked off the team. And more than that – no hockey team in the world will ever sign you again.”

“Okay, you know what, you need help. You should schedule an appointment with a psychologist.” With that, I try to push her away from the door and leave, but she pushes back and screams, "You don't believe me, do you?” Then, she raises her fist and punches herself in the face so hard that the skin at the corner of her mouth tears and she starts bleeding.

“Have you completely lost your mind?!” I think I'm going insane. This woman is a freak!

“It's possible,” she shrugs. “I'll disfigure myself so badly that not even my parents will recognize me. And then I'll say it was you. The police, the press, everyone will know what a psychopath you are. How do you think that will affect your career? Dad will kick you out and no one – especially not with the reputation of a woman beater – will want you.”

“You wouldn't do that,” I say, looking back and forth between her ice-cold eyes and her split lip.

“Think so, huh? Caleb, I've reached a point where I'd do anything. And you know what, you brought this on yourself. You should have never left me. But you thought you could replace me with that slit-eyed whore. Well, this is what you get. If I can't have you, then no one should.” Jessica steps away from the door. “You have three days to decide.” She turns around, grabs the handle, and is about to leave when she pauses – but she doesn't turn to me. “And, Caleb, if I don't have an answer from you by then, I'll make sure both of you get kicked out. So, you better make up your mind soon.” With those words, she disappears, leaving me alone.

---