Page 59 of Ice, Love, & Other Penalties

I squarely meet her wounded gaze. “Because I care, alright?” I force the admission out roughly. “We’re friends now and I want to look after you.”

I wave the phone meaningfully. “So either you come willingly or I start dialing your sisters. Your choice.”

She closes her eyes and says, “Fine, I’m going but make no mistake, I’m doing this against my better judgment.”

I tuck my phone away as relief hits me that she’s agreed. “So I’m guessing your family doesn’t actually know about . . . him.” I watch her face closely. “This is why you freaked out when I asked about your need for animal companions, right?”

Her jaw firms stubbornly, lips pressing into a thin line. “I said stop digging, Brynes,” she repeats in a clipped tone, moving briskly to collect her shoes and Rigby’s leash, clearly eager to leave. “We’re going in my car since Rigby is coming along.”

I open up my palm placatingly.“Sure, where are the keys?”

She glares at my hand and then at me. “I can drive.”

“Humor me, darling, and give me your car keys, please,” I cajole lightly, but I have no intention of letting her drive in this state.

Her eyes narrow. “Stop calling me that. We’re not friends and there won’t be any benefits,” she bites out.

I want to argue that last part, my gaze dropping briefly to her lips before I catch myself, but after what I just found out I know I can’t pursue anything further until I’m certain she’s actually open to it.

“You don’t get to take away the friendship card, Indie,” I admonish gently. “Now let’s head out, we don’t have much time left.” I gesture toward the door, determined to get us moving.

“What about Myra’s party?”

I exhale heavily as I consider it. I don’t even know if I should still have the party at this point. If Anastasia plans on fighting me for custody this could blow everything up, and I need to prepare myself and Myra for that possibility. Starting with finding a good child therapist in case things get ugly.

I huff out a mirthless laugh under my breath. When will my life ever just be quiet and normal?

Never, answers a wry voice inside my head.

It’s always been a roller coaster where I look at everyone’s lives and everyone is shitting rainbows and hearts. Me, I can’t get a fucking break, I think bitterly. When I glance at Indie, I wonder why I’m even bothering with pursuing her. She’s so out of my league and even with the demons she’s dealing with, she’ll eventually find happiness just like the rest—and be far away from me.

“She loves unicorns,” Indie says suddenly. “I can ask Teddy to make it all about unicorns—at your house.”

I scrub a hand roughly over my jaw, conflicted. “We shouldn’t do that. What if my sister shows up that day and makes a scene?”

“Then we’ll find another place to celebrate her,” Indie suggests gently. She touches my arm lightly. “Myra will still have her big party and that day you can relax and enjoy it with her, no matter what happens.”

I feel myself softening under her reassuring tone and gentle touch. And even when she’s so out of my league, she makes me feel like things aren’t as shitty. But how long is this feeling going to linger?

It’ll be gone soon. Nikki, my last girlfriend, left me when I brought Myra to our lives. She wasn’t going to raise someone else’s child. Her or me, she said. She left me the next day.

We’re already on the road when Indie finally speaks up. “Is this why you said love is disappointing?”

“What?”

“Your mom doesn’t seem very loving, then your sister abandoned her daughter . . .” She pauses, looking over at me searchingly. “What about your dad?”

“Who knows? I never went looking for him,” I say tightly, hands gripped on the steering wheel.

“Love isn’t always like that,” she says gently, reaching over to give my arm a supportive squeeze. “You just haven’t found the right person yet.”

Her words burrow deep within me, igniting a spark in a long-dormant corner of my heart. It’s an inexplicable shift, a stirring of something unnamed yet it has been lying dormant for years—maybe an eternity. I find myself gripped by a sudden impulse to halt the relentless march of time, to stop the car and bridge the gap between us with more than just words.

The urge to pull her close, to feel the heat of her breath against my skin, to taste the truth with a kiss, becomes urgent.

But maybe I’m just reacting because I’m vulnerable and the past hour has been an exchange of emotional truths and heart-wrenching tragedies.

For a moment, I entertain the possibilities. Maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Or even more terrifying and exhilarating is the thought that perhaps she’s the one who can save me from a life half-lived.

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