Page 23 of Fault Line

Yeah, exactly. He wants me to find someone who fits into his perfect little box of what a good wife and daughter-in-law should be. And then, on the side, I can have my cake and eat it, too. Just like him.

My frustration rises, but I work to keep my tone even. “I’ll settle down when I’m ready, Dad. For now, I’m keeping my focus, just like you wanted. Hockey and graduation. That’s it.”

As he drones on about the benefits of a stable relationship, my mind drifts. He’s so far off base that it’s laughable. I don’t want a Stepford wife who will willingly ignore my infidelity. Someone that’s more worried about tainting their picture-perfect image than protecting themselves.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, and I hate the way my father treats her—he’s the real asshole here. But she’s still not the type of person I’d envision for myself. I want to be with someone bold, outspoken, and confident.

The exact opposite of what my father wants for me.

He envisions someone who’s prim and proper, a sweet girl who attends church every Sunday and wouldn’t dare speak her mind. I’m suffocated by the image. Frankly, the idea of spending the rest of my life with a person like that sounds about as interesting as watching paint dry.

I want someone who wouldn’t let my family steamroll her. Someone who’s fiercely independent and who can handle my hockey career. She needs to have ambition, drive, a sharp mind, and an even sharper wit.

And she’s not just someone’s fucking arm candy, that’s for damn sure.

If I really wanted to torture myself, I might admit that my description sounds a hell of a lot like a girl I already know .. . one who won’t even bother to look at me right now.

9

KAIA

I sit on my bed,staring blankly at my computer screen, a wave of frustration and helplessness flooding through me. The last few days have been rough, and I’m still reeling from the argument I had with Holden.

There’s a thick line of unresolved tension between us now, and it feels like a balloon that’s about to pop at any second. Which is why I’ve been avoiding him all week.

I’m on my third attempt at rereading the same line of text when Lizzie barges into my room, barely managing a smile. I raise a brow in her direction, waiting for her to spill whatever tea’s brewing in that head of hers.

“You remember Rai, right?” she finally asks, dropping her bag on the floor and plopping down on the edge of my mattress.

I roll my eyes. “Who could forget him?”

“Well, he invited me over tonight to celebrate after the game,” she says with a hint of detachment.

“Okay?” I didn’t even realize they had exchanged numbers after the party last week. She hasn’t so much as mentioned his name since, even when I half-heartedly attempted to pry. “I’m happy for you?”

“Well, do you wanna come? It’s low-key tonight,” she says casually. “Just the guys that live there and a few close friends.”

I think about it for a moment. On the one hand, it might be nice to get out of my room for a little while. On the other hand, the idea of sitting around with a bunch of strangers, listening to them boast about their win, doesn’t exactly sound appealing.

“I’m not really in the mood to sling praise at a bunch of guys I don’t know.”

“You know Holden,” Lizzie argues, waggling her brows.

“Yeah, that’s not a major selling point, Liz.”

“Aw, are you still mad about your little tiff from the other day?”

When I came home on Tuesday, stewing in my own self-pity, Lizzie spent an inordinate amount of time listening to me rant about our fight. I’m fairly certain she was only halfway paying attention, but it was nice to have someone to talk to about it other than Elio.

“No, I don’t give a shit what he thinks of me.” Okay, I might care a little bit, especially because he incidentally used the one insult that I despise with all my heart. But I’m not about to admit that out loud. Not to Lizzie, anyway. “But I am still frustrated about the whole situation in general.”

“And that means you have to sit in your room alone all weekend?”

“No, but itdoesmean that I need to work twice as hard to prep for our first meeting.”

“It’s one night, Kaia,” she says, her voice softening. “You don’t have to stay for long. And who knows, you might even have a little fun.”

I sigh, feeling torn. Part of me wants to take her up on her offer, but the other, much larger part of me is too stubborn to budge. “I’m not going.”

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