Page 103 of Beautiful Collide

Her eyes snap to mine, sharp and guarded again. “Don’t bother trying to pry. Others have tried and failed.”

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me,” I reply, holding her gaze. “I’m saying . . . I get it.”

She blinks, caught off guard. “What do you mean, you get it? I haven’t even told you whatitis.”

“I mean, I get why you can’t go in there. Why it feels like you’re drowning just looking at it. You’re not crazy, and you’re not weak for feeling like this.”

She stares at me for a beat, like she’s trying to decide whether she believes me. Then her voice drops to almost a whisper. “I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“This,” she says, gesturing vaguely to the door. “How one stupid door can still make me feel like I’m thirteen years old all over again. How I can’t . . . I can’t get over it. Not really.”

Thirteen?

Fucking. Thirteen.

I don’t know what she means by this, but I’m horrified for her. Furious that someone hurt her. And angry with Dane for letting it happen.

You don’t know that, I tell myself, forcing a breath out.Don’t make stupid assumptions.

“You don’t have to get over it,” I tell Molly softly. “Sometimes things stick with you, no matter how strong you are.”

Her eyes narrow, like she doesn’t believe me. “Easy for you to say. You’re not afraid of anything.”

“That’s not true.”

She scoffs. “Oh, please. You fight guys twice your size for a living.”

“Yeah,” I admit. “But that’s different. On the ice, I’m in control. I know what to expect. But fear? Real fear? It’s not something you just ‘get over.’ It’s something you learn to face one small step at a time.”

She’s quiet, processing my words.

“Look,” I continue, trying to keep my tone light but honest, “you don’t have to go in there right now. Or ever, if you don’t want to. But if you do . . . I’ll be here. I’ll stand right next to you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Molly’s gaze softens, and for the first time, I see something in her expression that looks like trust. “Why do you care?”

The question catches me off guard, but I answer honestly. “Because I do.”

I don’t know if she’ll believe me.

Especially with our background.

But I mean it.

We can fight, we can argue, we can hate each other to the core, but I’ll still care. You can’t hate someone without caring. Not that I ever really hated her. Even when she lied about the closet thing to Coach.

She must’ve had a reason.

Molly looks down again, biting her lip like she’s trying to keep her emotions in check. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

I grin faintly. “Yeah, I’ve been told.” I pause a beat. “By you. Repeatedly.”

A tiny laugh shakes her shoulders.

She returns my smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

A long silence stretches between us, but it’s not heavy this time. It’s . . . different.

---