I can’t just have Ella, can’t have what Nova and Lake do.
She needs to hide, to dull her thoughts, to…down liquid courage to be with me.
Because I’m not enough.
I grind my teeth together, push that down, and shove myself off the bed.
Her brows draw into a deep vee. “Wh?—?”
But I’m already moving into my closet, yanking out a pair of sweats and a hoodie, bringing them back to the bed.
“Riggs,” she says softly.
“You’re drunk,” I manage to grind out.
“I’m not,” she protests. “I just had a couple of cocktails at the arena and?—”
“Don’t bullshit me,” I mutter. “I’ve seen it enough. I know the look in your eyes.” I pull the hoodie over her head, yank up the sweats, covering the body I want almost more than my next breath. I search the room for her socks, her boots, see them tossed into the corner and retrieve them, shove them onto her feet. Her coat’s crumpled at the edge of the bed and I snag it.
“Riggs,” she says again.
I drag it onto her arms, straighten it over her torso, zip it up.
“Let’s go,” I mutter, taking her hand, pulling her up from the mattress, keeping her close as I guide her downstairs.
I’m not going to let her fall.
But I can’t do this.
Not…like this.
Grinding my teeth together, disappointment and shame and frustration warring in my stomach, I draw her to my car.
I drive her home.
I make sure she gets safely inside.
And then I go back to my house…
And I open the text messages from my dad.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ella
The cold bites at my exposed cheeks. It’s a rough, sharp kind of sensation, nothing like the cool kiss of the rink.
But that’s fine.
I need the rough sharpness, need it to file away the edges of?—
Last night.
Silence in the car.
A gentle hand at my back, urging me up the driveway, reaching over my shoulder and plugging in a code to the lock I didn’t realize he knew—but I should have, considering that he’s driven me home on many an occasion after mules with Nova or a night out at the local bar we prefer.
I was coaxed inside, the door closed behind me.