Page 69 of Back On Ice

What the fuck am I going to do? What does he want? If he wants more money, he has my number. Why did he have to show up here? Should I send Mom away or take her and run?

We could go to Boston, and I could still honor my new team's contract. But if I’m on the team there, the chances of Dad finding us again are too high. My name would be plastered on every bit of news related to the team, not to mention press conferences after. I’d have to pay to break my contract and move to a completely different state. Maybe California or something. Mom’s always talked about going to the beach there someday. We’ll put everything under an alias and he’ll never be able to find us again.

The thought of reneging on my contract and giving up hockey to move across the country makes my stomach sour… but for Mom? I would do anything to keep her safe, even if that means giving up the sport that I love.

Shit, what about Sophie? I would rather die than leave her again, but I have to think of her safety. Maybe I can ask her to come with us. No. I would never ask her to leave her family behind for a life on the run.

If I know dad, this isn’t a one time thing. He’ll keep coming, keep being a threat. I can’t stay with her, but I can’t let anything happen to her either. Dad may have been all threats ten years ago, but who knows what he would do now? The thought sends fire through my veins, anger lighting me up from the inside.

No.

He won’t be touching Sophie, Mom, or me, ever again. I’ll make damn sure of it.

Swallowing, I put the car in drive and turn around, heading back towards home. It’s getting dark, and I need to talk to Sophie. She’ll be done at the flower shop soon, and she needs to know why I’m leaving.

At least this time, we’ll have a chance to say goodbye.

Chapter Twenty Eight

SOPHIE

Carter should be backany day now. If I’m counting right, it’s been exactly six weeks and one day since he left for training camp. I hoped I might see or hear from him today, but the sun is almost completely set and he hasn’t come by the shop at all.

The first two weeks of morning sickness were absolute hell, but I haven’t been getting as sick since I’ve figured out what my triggers are. So far, I have to avoid Chinese food, Mexican food, pickles, and Ranch salad dressing. If I stay away from those, I don’t ever actually throw up—I justfeellike I’m going to. Which doesn’t seem that much better, but if it keeps me from emptying my guts into the toilet every meal, I’ll stay away from any food that makes my stomach feel funny.

My boobs hurt like hell too. I don’t think I realized how many times a day I accidentally knock against them until each touch had me recoiling in pain. Leaning over the counter at work. Crossing my arms. Hell, I can’t even sleep on my stomach anymore.

The hardest part has been not being able to tell anyone. Obviously, Abbie knows, so that helps, but I desperately want to tell Mom. Or even Tom. If only so that they can tell me that everything will be alright. So they can reassure me that Carter wouldn’t ditch his own kid, and put my worries at ease. Tom surprised our parents with a cruise for their anniversary and they’re currently out of town. Mom would know something was wrong in a heartbeat.

Carter deserves to know first.

My gut twists. I hate that I can’t shake the distrust that's been manifesting over the years. I could have sworn he’d be back by now. In his text before he left, he said he’d come back as soon as he could. Is it really possible that he’s done with me, and that’s why he hasn’t reached out?

Shaking my head, I try to clear my mind. No. I can’t think like that, it’s only going to stress me out. Taking a deep breath, I go over what I’m going to say to him in my head.

I’ll start with the fact that I know it’s horrible timing, and we aren’t eventogethertogether, but I made a mistake on my birth control. And while I don’t know what it means for us, I would love it if he wants to be in the baby’s life.

But more eloquent than that.

When it’s thirty minutes to closing, and I’m just about to close up shop, the bell over the front door rings.

Looking up, my heart pounds and all the air whooshes out of my chest.

Carter.

He’s just as handsome as he was when he left two months ago, his black hair sexily disheveled like he’s been running his hands through it. A blue t-shirt is tight across his muscled chest, and his jeans cling to his toned thighs.

Shit. This pregnancy must be making my hormones more out of sorts than I thought because all I can think about is movingaround this counter and climbing the man in front of me like a tree.

“Hi,” he says, almost like he’s out of breath.

“Hi.” My voice is just as breathy even though I’ve been sitting all day.

We just take each other in. His eyes trail up my body before landing on my face, but there’s nothing sexual about his gaze. It’s almost like he’s checking to see if I’m okay. Like he has to see me with his own two eyes to confirm.

“I’m sorry, Sophie,” he blurts out, “I’m so, so sorry, and I hope you’re not still mad at me. Nicole and I… we’renothing, and havenever beenanything. She should be long gone by now.”

I swallow roughly, my heart pounding. “I haven’t seen her since that day. She hasn’t shown her face since you’ve been gone.”

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