Page 84 of Home Ice

"I'm not moving in with you." She still doesn't turn around. And now she's walking even faster to her car.

God damn it. I jog to close the distance and still catch up to her only as she slips the key into her car door. "What's going on? Talk to me, Jams."

"Nothing. And don't call me that."

"Bullshit." I press my hand against the door so she can't open it. If I'm going to act like a jerk, I might as well go all the way. "Things were good at my parents’ house. They were great. So what's different now? What changed between me and you?"

She looks around the parking lot and finally at me. Her jaw is clenched so tight I can almost hear her teeth grind as she blows out a breath through her pursed lips, and damn if seeing those lips this close doesn't trigger feelings I really don't need to deal with right now on top of all this. "We're in the real world now, Brant. Things just got carried too far over the break. It was… fun, but we're back in reality now."

"Fun?" I give her a chance to say something more, but she doesn't. "I introduced you to my parents. I told practically everyone we met that I love you. You gave me…" Heat rises in my cheeks as I remember our Christmas morning. "And you want me to believe that was just you having fun?"

"There are too many reasons this won't work."

"Name them," I challenge her.

She takes a step and runs a hand over her pulled back hair. "I have some place to be. I'm not going home."

"Name them." I can't believe we're really doing this in the parking lot outside the arena after a practice. After what I wanted to be the beginning of a life with her.

"My job." She holds out a finger, counting as she goes. "My entire career. Your career—you don't need the distraction. That I hate this fucking city and can't wait to leave it forever. Isn't that enough?"

"None of those reasons are new. We're working through all of them. It's your mom." She looks away. "The only thing that's changed is that fucking text you got." Looking back, I see now that's when she started to distance herself from me. I thought she needed space to recenter herself, and I gave it to her. I don't know how I would react if one of my parents abandoned me because of who I am and then tried to contact me out of the blue, so I had nothing to gauge her reaction against. I still don't.

"That text didn't change anything. It just reminded me of the way things are always going to be. I'm sorry, Brant. I really am. But you'll be fine."

I wait for her to look at me. It seems like the sun might set before she does, but finally her eyes meet mine, and I nod. "You're right. I will be fine." I take the keys from the door where she left them, walk around to the other side, and unlock that door. "So, where are we going?"

"What?"

"Wherever you're going, I'm going with you. You said you're not going home, so where are we going?" I pull the door open and sit down. The glovebox door drops, bashing my left knee, and I think of muttering a few curses at the old car. But I latch it shut, pull my other leg in, and close the door.

"Brant."

It might be childish, but I pretend I can't hear her. She folds her arms across her chest and then put her hands on her hips a moment later. I'm literally a pro at seeing what's going on around me. Watching her in the side of my eye is a hell of a lot more interesting than watching some cocky forward who thinks he can make a power move around the net and catch me napping, so I can do this all day. I try to keep my expression blank, but it doesn't take long before a smile creeps across my lips. And when I slot the key into the ignition and press the door unlock button to urge her into the car, I'm fully grinning.

Lily yanks the door open and slides behind the steering wheel with a huff. I keep my hand over the glovebox door in case it gets any ideas. "I wasn't lying. I'm not going home."

"I believed you. I'm going with you."

"Why are you making this so difficult?" She grips the top of the steering wheel and straightens her arms. The sun catches the tiny blond hairs on her forearms that are invisible otherwise, and I want to tease my finger along the ends of them to watch goosebumps rise along her skin.

"I'm making this incredibly easy. I don't give a shit about any of those reasons we can't be together, so I'm throwing them all out the window." I press the button to roll down the window, but since she hasn't turned the key in the ignition, it just makes a weak click. So much for dramatic effect. "Might as well drive. I wouldn't want us to be late."

"What if I'm going to the gynecologist?" she asks.

I shrug. "I'll help you into the stirrups."

"You are the biggest asshole."

"You don't know that, but if you're a good girl, I'll let you explore and find out."

"And disgusting too." She starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot without another word.

She still hasn't said a word to me by the time we turn onto 400 East, but the way she glares at me every time we're on a straight road or at a red light is all the interaction I need. "You could have just said we're going to Bridges. Dropping something off?"

"Asshole," it's not much louder than a breath, but hearing it makes me laugh. "I talked to Michael yesterday," she says. "He was really strange on the phone. He kept insisting nothing was wrong, but something obviously was. I thought it would be more difficult for him to deny it when I'm looking him in the eye."

"You're very hard to deny when you're looking me in the eye."

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