Page 45 of Ice Cold Rival

“Why is she so obsessed with the idea?”

“She doesn’t have another option. In two short months, I’ll be Mrs. Allen Thompson. You’re her last hope.”

What about my hopes?I wanted to throw the question at her, but Brighton wouldn’t understand. She was living the life she wanted. It simply happened to coincide with the life Mom wanted for her. With a defeated sigh, I adjusted the material of the dress and turned to face the mirror.

The sight stole my breath. And Icouldbreathe. Brighton had chosen a dress that flowed when I moved and didn’t try to mold me into a distinct shape. For once, I was glad she’d nailed her goal.

The ombre green color went from a pale sage at the top to a deep forest at the bottom. A sheer layer of gold sparkles started off sparse up by my chest and became an explosion of glitter by my feet. The A-line skirt nipped in at my waist, then gathered over my bodice to one shoulder.

I spun in a slow circle watching in the mirror as the light caught on the hem. This dress was fun and beautiful, and it fit me perfectly. It was also perfect for her Christmas wedding.

Brighton had gone with an elegant farmhouse theme, like something from one of those renovation shows. Cozy meets upper class. Mostly green and white with lots of textures like wood and fur and sweaters.

Her husband had contributed zero input, and I’d purposely kept myself away from the planning too so I hadn’t seen the dress before. I’d thought it wasn’t my style, but moreso, my opinion tended to not matter in my family. If I didn’t like it, too bad. Brighton, on the other hand, had no problem making her decisions stick. I tried not to let the discrepancy ruin my relationship with my sister.

When I came out, she clapped her hands together, and a real smile transformed her face. “Oh Kenz, you’re beautiful.”

The raw response went a long way toward easing my resentment. Brighton was oblivious to my struggles, but she genuinely wanted me at her wedding.

“Thanks. It’s a wonderful choice.”

“Perfect. Okay, back into the garment bag. Do you want me to bring it to Mom’s or are you going to hold onto it here?” The tone said she thought I should let Mom keep it, but I was feeling weirdly possessive.

“No, I’ll keep it here. Don’t worry. It’ll be safe from my mess.”

She nodded. “About your date to the wedding…”

I’d hoped she’d let the conversation go, but no such luck. “I want to bring Reece. For a bunch of reasons, but number one because he makes me feel good in a way Toby never did.”

Brighton searched my face then sighed. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Toby, but you do seem happier now. Bring your boyfriend. I’ll talk to Mom.”

I risked the dress to lean down and hug her. Brighton tensed for a second, then awkwardly patted my back. We weren’t an affectionate family under normal circumstances, so she was most likely uncomfortable with my show of affection. I let her go and ignored the tiny sigh of relief she let out.

Brighton stood and nodded at Reece’s jersey, which I’d laid carefully over my desk. “If your date tonight includes your boyfriend’s hockey game, wear the jersey and black leggings with your heeled booties.”

“Yeah, but what do I wear under it?”

She raised a brow. “Nothing.”

My mouth dropped open in shock, and she gave me a smug little smile before walking out of my room. For the first time, I admitted there might be a side to Brighton I didn’t know. She was three years older, and she’d gone to a community college instead of Easton like Mom. The only point of contention between the two of them. I’d been so focused on trying to live up to Mom’s expectations in high school, I hadn’t paid much attention to my perfect older sister.

I swished the dress one more time, then returned to the bathroom to change. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d been self-absorbed.

16

As much as I wanted to take credit for TU’s win on Friday, I had nothing to do with it. We played a tough game, and our only goal came from a surprise breakaway by none other than Rafael Castillo.

I could count on one hand the number of Hispanic hockey players I’d known, and all of them I’d met here in Texas. Coach had taken my suggestion to heart and assigned me to do one on one training with Rafe. Sellers thought I was being punished, but I liked Rafe. He was smart and hard-working along with stupidly talented.

Working with him made me a better player—and he made the most of his ice time.

Unlike last week, I didn’t fuck around in the locker room. Kane was holding court in the corner complaining about something stupid, but for once, I didn’t listen. He always had an issue, and I had Kenzie waiting for me.

I found her in the athlete parking lot, leaning against the side of my car. She looked completely at home, and when she spotted me, her lips curved into a slow smile I knew I’d see in my dreams.

“I thought you might have forgotten about me again,” she teased.

“Ha ha,” I deadpanned as I put my gear in the trunk. “Do you have your list, wifey?”

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