Page 46 of Ice Bet

“Let me guess. One of them didn’t leave?”

For once, someone's assumption was correct.

“Yeah.” I turned away, ready to run back to my apartment and away from Aasher because I felt naked in front of him, even though all my clothes were on. “I got over it. Iamover it. But in the midst of trying to get over it, I formed an unhealthy obsession with being perfect. He took control from me that day, and in order to take it back, I controlled the only thing I could...”

“Being the best at skating.”

I nodded.

“I controlled my eating habits—losing weight that I couldn’t afford to lose. I stopped sleeping and stayed in the rink after hours to work on turns that Olympian skaters couldn’t even hit. I developed terrible coping mechanisms. If I couldn’t control what happened to me in that locker room, Iwasgoing to control what happened on the ice.”

It took a long time to get to that conclusion. A year of therapy—a requirement of Dean Chiffon if I wanted to attend Bexley U and join their team, courtesy of my father pulling strings—and we’d finally connected the dots.

Aasher was quiet, and the more time that passed with an ugly truth in between us, the worse I felt.I can’t believe I just told him all of that.

My face was on fire, and I wanted to run to my apartment and pull my blankets over my head. I rushed into the hallway, leaving Aasher in his room alone to digest everything. My psyche was shaking her head at me for spilling the truth.

My breaths were rapid bullets, and if any of the other guys were in my way, I was going to run right through them, but before I even had a chance to take in my surroundings, a tight grip pulled me backward. I was lifted off my feet and suddenly back in Aasher’s bedroom.

“What the hel—”

Words slipped from my tongue when his hand cupped the side of my cheek, pressing it into his chest. Aasher’s strong arms wrapped around my body like a blanket, and I felt the warmth all over. My chin trembled, and I squeezed my eyes shut, unsure of what to think. The beating of his heart matched mine. A painful thump every half second.

When his hand crept up my back and his fingers tangled in my hair, keeping my face pressed against his body, I felt something I never expected.

Safe.

And how ironic was it that I felt safe in the arms of a stupid, arrogant, overprotective hockey player that I refused to trust.

15

AASHER

“What didyou do to her? Huh? Did you tell her she was fat? Tell her she needed to lose some weight? Is that what you wanted? For her to be skinnier?”

I stepped back toward Principal Larose’s office door with my hands hung down by my sides. My coach, Principal Larose, and Savannah’s parents were all staring at me like I was the cause of all this. I was in complete disbelief.

“I…” I opened my mouth, stuttering with confusion. “I didn’t say any of that. I always told her the opposite.”

“So you knew?” Savannah’s mom’s voice broke at the end, and tears rushed down her face. I can’t remember the last time I cried, because, come on, teenage boys didn’t cry, and if we did, we were told to lie about it. But shit, I felt a frog as big as a hockey puck in the back of my throat.

“No!” I managed to crack out. “I didn’t know, Susan. If I knew, I would have said something.”

“How didn’t you know?!” Mike’s face was red, and my coach stood up beside him because we all sensed the tension in the room. “Your fucking hands were always on her! You had to have felt how she was losing weight.”

I’d never felt worse in my entire life than I did at that moment. Was it my fault? I didn’t pay enough attention to her. I wasn’t a good boyfriend. I knew it, but I never told her that she wasn’t good enough or that she was too big. How was I getting blamed for this? And why did I feel guilty?

“You can kiss your scholarship goodbye.”

I popped my head up and looked over at Coach who was just as panicked as I was.

“What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“You think you get to have this successful future when my daughter’s is destroyed? She’s being shipped away to a facility halfway across the world as we speak.”

“Now, come on, Michael. This isn’t his fault.”

I appreciated my coach’s support, but I knew how this was going to go.

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