Page 46 of Dreams on the Ice

Then, before I realize what’s happening, I get notification after notification after notification, and it’s likes, comments, and follows. So many. Hundreds… thousands… and as afraid as I am to look at the comments, I do.

They’re all positive.

Comments on my clients’ hair, comments on pictures of me. Comment after comment. Like after like. And then direct messages start to come in. And they’re all amazing and kind. Tears fall, happy ones. I can’t believe this is my life.

“I love her,” Forrest says.

My entire body jerks, breaking me out of my focus on my social media, shifting that focus to the podcast.

Forrest lifts his head, his eyes find the camera, and then he smiles. “I love you, honey,” he rasps. “And I’m coming to get you.”

Exiting out of the app, I throw my phone across my room. I watch as it bounces on the bed a couple of times, and then I stare at the device. I’m afraid it’s going to come alive again or something.

His words.

The conviction.

My God.

He loves me.

And he doesn’t know it yet, but I love him, too—all of him. Every single little piece of him. But I still don’t know if I can give in to him. If I can be with him. Because being with him means that he won’t have his family. I can’t be the reason he doesn’t have the future he’s always dreamed.

Instead of staying in my room, pacing and thinking about what could have been, I leave my phone on the bed and walk out the door. I’m not sure what I need right now, but staring at that phone, thinking of those words, and then thinking about my own feelings—it’s too much.

Moving down the hallway, I stop at the sight of my father sitting behind his desk. I’m surprised he’s home at this hour. Leaning against the jamb, I lift my hand and rap on the side with my knuckle.

He lifts his head, and his eyes find mine. “Seems like your boy has been doing some fast fixing with the situation.”

“You saw that?” I ask.

He hums and leans back in his chair, his eyes connecting to my own. “I saw. Seems like this boy is in love with my daughter, and I’ve not met him yet. Why?”

Letting out a snort, I take a step into his office and sink down on the chair across from him. “Well, we’ve had a lot going on…”

“I would say so. Invite him to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I broke up with him. We talked about it,” I say.

My father stands, shaking his head from side to side before he rounds his desk. I watch as he walks in front of it, leans his ass against the edge, and crosses his arms. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes focused on mine and looking nowhere else.

“Brooklynn, you’re too much like your old man. Bring the boy for dinner tomorrow. We already know that you’ll get back together. You’ve holed yourself up in your room for days. Your girlfriends have already come to see you. They don’t want the business to suffer, but they aren’t turning their backs on you. So you aren’t crying about that. It’s about the boy.”

I almost laugh because he keeps calling Forrest a boy. He’s a twenty-five-year-old, six-foot-something, well-over-two-hundred-pound man. He is no boy. But at the same time, my dad still thinks of me as a kid. So I choose not to correct him and think it’s cute.

“I guess I’ll try and bring him over for dinner tomorrow,” I murmur.

Standing, I turn my back to him and start to move toward the door. “Brooklynn,” he calls out. I stop, looking over my shoulder at him. “You’re a good girl.”

And with that, the conversation is over. I know him. He’s a man of few words, and I’m okay with that. There are enough words in the world. And I’ve learned recently that there are sometimes too damn many of them.

FORREST

My phone has blown up to the point where I want to power that shit off, but I don’t. Instead, I power it down and shove it in mypocket. Sinking down into the driver’s seat of my car, I start the engine and stare at the windshield.

I direct my gaze to the side, then clear my throat and jerk my chin before I shift the car intoDriveand head home. I can’t believe this shit is really happening. That Elizabeth worked fucking magic to make the world no longer hate Brooklynn but instead love her.

And they do.

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