Page 14 of My Best Bet

It was so tempting.

But no.

My cold muscles locked up. I didn’t dare move even an inch closer.

I couldn’t.

And the reality of that stung.

How was it that I grew up with him? That I used to know him. That I used to touch him. I used to want him so badly, and I was lucky enough to be wanted right back.

We’d been mirrors of each other, to the point that I could basically read his mind at one point in time, hear his voice in myhead, know exactly what he was thinking, and it was the same for him.

We completely understood each other.

Until we didn’t.

This person in front of me now was a far cry from the happy-go-lucky boy I once knew.

He was a man. A solid man. Way larger than he used to be, with more facial hair, a stronger jawline, and harder eyes.I couldn’t help but wonder if his touch would still feel the same.

Before I could say anything else, he extended out a $100 bill. The move felt jarring. My hand accepted the bill before my brain caught up to what was happening.

“Oh.” Looking down at the bill, my eyebrows tugged together. “T-today’s free,” I stammered, shaking my head. “It was just a trial lesson, so…” I tried to hand it back.

He didn’t speak until I finally met his eyes. That piercing gaze of his caused a flurry in my stomach.

A muscle in his jaw ticked and his eyebrows tugged together. His eyes darted over me, and his mouth moved like he wanted to say something, but as soon as I pulled at the collar of my jacket, his entire frame stiffened.

Looking down at the bill between us, he cleared his throat. “Not what that’s for, Bennett.” With a sad smirk, he turned on his heel and stalked away.

I stood there gaping at the money. The realization slowly andpainfullyseeped into me, crushing me.

“Bye Coach Mer!” Lucy happily called out, completely and blissfully ignorant of the fact that my entire fresh outlook on life here in Chicago just shattered.

This was just a reminder.

I couldn’t run from my past.

I couldn’t start over.

My breathing went raged.

It was too late.

It hurt too bad.

The mistakes I made were permanent ones. I didn’t realize at the time I was making them that they’d have such a lasting impact, but no one ever does, right? I didn’t realize they’d haunt me forever, that I’d still be reeling from the repercussions a full decade later.

Whirling around on my heel, I immediately marched back into the rink and pulled at my scarf, because it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I needed air. Cold air.

Plopping down on one of the benches, I gasped for breath.

Why the hell would he throw it in my face like this? He had no right to just… to just…

Ugh.

My eyes burned. I immediately buried my face in my scarf to hide the evidence.

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