Page 93 of Icy Pucking Play

"No." She steps closer again. "Because you need to hear this. Need to understand that what happened with Chelsea…with Clark? That's not us. I'm not her, Evan."

"She's not Chelsea," Julia had said just yesterday. "She doesn't want your fame or your story or anything except you. How can you not see that?"

"Because seeing it means risking everything," I'd replied.

"No, little brother. Not seeing it means losing everything."

"I know that," I say finally.

"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, you're so busy protecting yourself from getting hurt that you can't see you're the one doing the hurting."

The words hit too close to what everyone's been telling me.

"You went to him," I say again, but the anger is fading, leaving something worse in its place. Something that feels like truth. "After everything, you still…"

"I made a mistake." Her voice breaks. "A huge, stupid mistake because I was hurt and confused and wanted answers. But that's not..." She takes a shaky breath. "That's not why I'm here now."

"Then why are you?"

"Because I think I'm falling in love with you, you idiot! And not because of some story or some career opportunity or anything else. Just because you're you."

The words hang between us, heavy with everything we've been afraid to say.

My phone buzzes.

Julia:Whatever you're about to do, whatever walls you're about to put up... don't.

"Sophie…"

"And I know that scares you. It scares me too! But maybe..." She steps closer one last time. "Maybe some things are worth being scared for."

"Some things are worth the risk," Sophie had said during that first golf lesson, eyes bright with challenge. "Even if you're terrible at them."

"I'm not terrible at golf."

"No, but you're terrible at letting people in." She'd smiled then, soft and knowing. "Good thing I'm patient."

I look at her—really look at her—standing there in the dim parking lot light. She has that determined set to her jaw that means she’s not giving up.

She still looks at me like I'm worth knowing. Worth trusting. Worth...

"I can't," I hear myself say, even as everything in me screams to take it back.

"Can't what?"

"Can't do this. Can't be what you want. Can't..." I step back. "Can't trust that this won't end the same way."

"Evan…"

"You should finish the feature," I say, already turning away. "Keep it professional. That's... that's what's best."

"Best for who?"

"For everyone."

"Liar." But her voice is resigned now. "You know what the worst part is? I actually thought... for a minute there, I really thought..."

"Sophie."

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