Page 31 of Fate on the Ice

Dressed, hair combed, and not at all ready to face whatever the fuck is going to come my way, I walk across the street to the girls’ house. I ball my hand in a fist and get ready to knock when the door flies open.

My eyes widen at the sight of her standing in front of me. She’s wearing a short white dress that’s tight against her perfect tits, has thin straps, and flows out and stops around midthigh. On her feet, she’s wearing a pair of flat sandals. She looks cute as fuck, her hair in a high ponytail and minimal makeup on her face.

She looks better than she did when I took her out the first time in the sexy dress. This is Grace. Fucking adorable in every way imaginable. Reaching out, I hold my palm out, and I know that I won’t be able to break up with her, and I won’t allow her to do the same—my pride be damned.

“Ready?” I ask.

She nods her head, her tongue sliding across her bottom lip. She places her fingers in mine. Gripping her gently, I take a step backward. I don’t have to pull or tug her at all. She comes easily, following behind me as I walk toward my car.

I don’t know what is going to happen tonight. It doesn’t feel good, but I’m going to ensure that it ends well. Because there is nobody for me but her. There is no more falling for her because I’ve already fallen.

Pulling into the restaurant's parking lot, I shift the car into Park and look over to Grace. She isn’t looking at me, but instead, she has her head tipped as she stares at her hands that are twisting in her lap.

“Do you want to tell me what this is about before we go inside?” I ask.

I’m dying to know what she is going to talk to me about, and if it involves ending things, I have to figure out how to prevent that. I don’t think I can sit through dinner without knowing what is on her mind.

She presses her lips together, her gaze focused on mine as she shakes her head from side to side slowly. “Grace,” I warn. “I can’t sit through dinner thinking the worst. Just tell me, honey.”

Her lips curve up into a smile. “I’m not sure if it’s the worst. It feels like it for me, but only because I swore I would never allow it, yet here it is. Right in front of me, and I don’t think I’m sorry for it, either.”

“Tell me, Grace, before I go insane.”

She stares at me for a long moment, then clears her throat. “I didn’t want you to find out from anyone else,” she murmurs. “I told the girls the other day, but I blurted it out and didn’t mean to.”

She’s rambling, obviously nervous, which I find both frustrating and cute as fuck at the same time. I open my mouth to say her name again, to warn her, but thankfully, she continues to ramble, and this time, she gets to the point, which sends me goddamn reeling.

“Coach Burns is my father.”

Fuck.

Chapter

Fifteen

GRACE

Watching him, I wait for him to say something. His eyes are wide, his lips are parted, and he just stares at me. I know he’s shocked. I know I’ve said something upsetting. I know he probably feels betrayed.

I just hope he doesn’t break up with me here and now. I’m not sure I wouldn’t if the tables were turned.

“Your father is Coach Burns,” he says, repeating my words.

“He is,” I whisper. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Otto clears his throat and presses his lips together. He nods his head as if he’s made a decision, but I decide to continue talking. I know I’m rambling, but I’m scared of his response. Terrified really.

“Does this change things?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything immediately. “He’s my father. We aren’t close, but he’s my father nonetheless. I don’t know what he’s going to say about it. But I don’t care what he does. I’m falling for you, Otto. All the way over the edge of a cliff—I’m falling.”

Otto reaches out and wraps his fingers around mine, his eyes focused on my own and nowhere else. They are searching, and I don’t know if he’s looking for the words he wants to say, and when he finds them, I’m not sure if they’re going to make me or break me.

Holding my breath, I wait for him to speak. When he does, that’s when it all comes out in a whoosh.

“Your father could own the Carolina Fury, and I wouldn’t give a fuck. It’s you for me, Grace. Hopefully, that doesn’t mean I get put up on the chopping block for a trade, but if it does, I don’t give a fuck.”

My heart slams against my chest as I nod my head, and my lips curve up into a smile. “And if you get traded, I’ll follow you, Otto. Wherever you go.”

He releases his grasp on my hands to cup my cheek and leans forward. I feel his lips against mine, then his tongue runs along the seam of my mouth as he tastes me. “You won’t have to follow me,” he rasps against my mouth. “Because you’ll be at my side. Never behind me.”

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