Page 94 of Unsteady

“Good.” She smiles. “I’ll call the lawyer and reschedule. Now eat.”

I smile as she sets a heaping plate of chicken pesto pasta in front of me. “Smells amazing.”

She bats her hands at the compliment. “Yeah, yeah—you know cooking isn’t my thing. But, I need to keep my little skating rock star fed.”

She sits to eat with me and we talk about everything. It feels good, and I find myself relaxing and getting more tired as I polish off the entire bowl. Soon after, she leaves to get the boys and I set up their cots in my room, laid out like a big pallet on my floor.

It used to make me happy to look at it, because I knew they’d be here with me; safe. Now, it fills me with dread. Can I do this? If I get custody of them, can I even stay here?

I know the answer already; which is why I overloaded my courses this semester to try and graduate in the fall. But I’m already just off academic probation, barely clearing my check-ins with my counselor and Coach Kelley. Which is ridiculous for a simple communications major.

By the time I’ve circled my thoughts back around, I’m standing dead on my feet. So I laze to the shower and then back to bed, only waking briefly when I hear the pitter-patter of little feet.

Oliver crashes to the floor almost instantly, quietly begging Liam not to wake me. But Liam ignores his every plea and walks right over to my bed. I shut my eyes tight, feigning sleep, and he presses a little kiss to my forehead before whispering, “Sweet dreams, sissy.”

I don’t know how I’ll manage it. But I know Iwill, somehow.

Because those two boys deserve so much more than this.

THIRTY-ONE

RHYS

It’s Thursday night, which usually means we’re out at a team dinner or floating through a few parties. Nothing too crazy, because we travel tomorrow, but something to get everyone excited in a controlled environment.

Tonight, however, Freddy, Bennett and I are hosting most of the team at our house for dinner, drinks and bonding.

Holden even invited Kane.

He ran it by me first, in a stumbling phone call that made me feel strangely guilty. He wasn’t trying to take sides; he was actually doing his job—getting to know his defensive partner.

Kane didn’t show, and I see the slight disappointment on Holden’s face where he sits next to an empty seat he insisted people save for the missing teammate.

Now, dinner is over, but we sit with dirty plates and full bellies, laughing and talking. And even though I don’t participate as much as I did before, it feels… normal.

A loud, swift knock interrupts the laughing, and Holden looks up at me, pushing back and offering to get it. I know he’s anticipating the black sheep to have finally made an appearance. But after only a few moments, he comes rushing back to me.

“Who is it?”

“Um.” He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s Sadie, the figure skater? She asked to talk to you.”

There’s a brief flare of irritation that everyone seems to know her—which only makes the irrational part of me want to take her and her brothers and keep them for myself. Still, I nod and stand, trying to stop my shaking hands and breeze too quickly towards the door. So quickly I jam my hip into the entryway table where all our keys and wallets lay.

Cursing lightly, I pull open the door, a little miffed he closed her outside instead of inviting her in.

And she’s there.

Beautiful—like always—in a way that catches in my throat.

Her hair is down, damp and I want to touch it because I know how silky it is after she’s showered. Her skin looks a little pink, sensitive in the wind and that stupid divot between her brows that makes me nearly sigh. I start to wonder if cartoon hearts are popping up over my head.

Everything in my system calms.

It’s never like this with anyone else. Absolute peace. It leaves me full, unprotected, unaware of anything except the softness of her skin and the hard pillars of stone that guard her heart. And how much I want to sink into her skin, or nip at her neck—leave some kind of evidence that I’ve affected her as much as she has me.

“Hey,” she starts, her voice gruff. I can’t tell if she’s going to cry or yell at me, but she doesn’t sound happy.

“Hey?” I try to say, but it comes out like a question. “Do you want to come in?”

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