Page 40 of Ice Me Baby

All I can do is reply with a mumbled, “Yeah.”

The moment the song ends, Taz and Vicy beg her to sing another one and end up picking one out for her. Her eyes widen, and I can tell she doesn’t want to sing whatever it is they chose. But they don’t give her a chance to argue before it begins.

The moment the lyrics of Dirty Thoughts by Chloe Adams slip through her lips, I’m a goner. I don’t think it’s normal to fall for someone this fast. My heart beats faster as dark thoughts of my past slither through my mind.

Memories of my father and mother start to overwhelm me. My chest tightens, and their toxic words ring through my head, slowly suffocating me. It’s as if the words themselves are a noose around my neck, tightening their hold to prove each word true.

I jump when I feel someone nudge my knee.

The past begins to blur with the present, and whispered words slip past my lips. My throat tightens through the suffocating feeling as I speak to a ghost that still haunts me every day. “No…no…”

“Dean?” Mac’s concerned voice briefly breaks through my panic and pulls me to the surface.

“Let me finish… Let me finish. I’ve got to prove it. I’ve got to prove myself.” My whispered words don’t reach anyone’s ears except Mac’s.

Leaning closer, Mac asks, “Prove what, brother?”

I turn so his dark eyes meet mine as I answer, “I’m not a mistake.”

His eyes widen before he gives me a sad smile. “You’re not a mistake. You have nothing to prove.”

Before I can answer, Liz heads our direction and takes a seat one chair away. Oli squeezes my knee and leans over to whisper something to Liz. Taz clears his throat, and my eyes shift to his. I groan when I see the mischievous gleam in them, knowing he’s going to ask me to sing.

Whoops and hollers erupt around us, and Liz turns to look at me. Well, what better way to show her how broken I am then by singing. I don’t want to sing, but Taz won’t let it go if I don’t.

I huff a sigh and stand from my chair.Fuck me.“One song,” I say as Vicy hands me the mic.

He nods. “Promise. One song.”

I huff another sigh as they jump off the stage. I flip through the list of songs and find one that speaks to me. I’m sure it will show her the type of man I’ve become. Ghosts by Nathan Wagner begins to play, and my eyes meet hers as I sing. I feel a sliver of satisfaction when her eyes widen and her jaw drops.

Not many people know I can sing, and they often don’t expect my voice to change the moment I do. I can’t look away from her as I sing each line from the depths of my heart. Giving her a glimpse of my soul. Something I’ve never allowed anyone to see.

Her eyes never leave mine, and I can see them sparkle in the lights. Can she see how broken I am? How I’ve slowly killedmyself, and there isn’t anything left for her to like, let alone love. Why the fuck do I even want her to love me anyways?

The song ends, and I quickly drop the mic. I can’t stand looking in her eyes anymore. I feel exposed. My eyes shift to Mac, and he gives me a sad nod. He knows what I need to get my mind right again. Without stopping to say goodbye, I head to the parking lot. The cool air hits me, and the past overwhelms me. I can’t hold it back any longer. I race to the car and drive to the only place I’ve ever felt safe.The ice rink.Memories of my past swallow me whole.

10 years ago…

By now, you’d think I’d be used to the hours of lecturing I get from my parents after each game. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been playing hockey since I could walk. The irony is a room filled with trophies, medals, and certificates proving I’m the top player on any team, don’t matter.

We just won the final game of the season and claimed the top spot in the league. I even won MVP. But all my parents care about is that I could have done better. What more could I have possibly have done to prove that I’m the best. I don’t have a single friend to call my own because everyone hates me.

They call me a kiss ass or goody-two-shoes. I hate it. I hate this house, this family, and worst of all, I hate myself.

I’m jerked from my reverie when my father yells, “Have you heard a single word we’ve said, Dean?”

I nod even though I blocked them out for the last thirty minutes. “I’ll do better next time.”

He glares at me before nodding. “Good. We can’t have you tarnishing the Lewis name.” He huffs before adding under his breath, “Your sister certainly wasn’t this much work.”

I flinch. No matter how many times he says that it finds a way to slice me each time. “May I leave now?” I ask quietly.

“Where are you going?” My mother asks in a huff.

I want out of this hellish house and to be left alone. I want to lick my wounds without them hovering over me like a starving pack of wolves. “The park across the street to think. The fresh air will help.”

My father had already walked away having said what he wanted to get his point across. “Let him go. He deserves a reward for winning the game tonight at least.”

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