Page 100 of On Thin Ice

One step forward, two steps back.

Push and pull. Hope and hesitation.

And maybe the worst part wasn’t that he thought I’d kept this from him.

It was that I’d trained him to expect that I would.

“This is the first I’m hearing of it,” I told him, more defensive than I meant to be. “Holly knows not to bring that kind of shit my way.”

Bell nodded, slow and measured, like he’d expected this, too. His expression didn’t sharpen or harden, it just … dimmed.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Makes sense.” He leaned back slightly and folded his arms over his chest in a protective gesture.

The weight in his voice pulled something loose inside me, and it made me feel like the worst kind of asshole in this conversation, even though I hadn’t asked to be part of it in the first place.

But I couldn’t give in. Not on this.

I pushed back slightly in my chair, the legs scraping the stone beneath us. Leaned forward, elbows braced on my knees. My hands curled into loose fists, my chin dropping to rest on my knuckles. “You know I’m a private guy. I did those Aces videos because I had to. Stuff like that’s in my contract. And yeah, I smiled through them—gritted my teeth through the whole damn thing really—because I knew it mattered to you.”

I dragged my right hand through my hair, fingers shaking. Dropped it to my thigh and tapped a frantic, unsteady rhythm with my fingertips.

“But this? This isn’t for the team. And it’sliterallynaked, Bell. There’s nowhere to hide. You and I show up in a photo like that, no matter how ‘tastefully’ it’s done.” I bounced my fingers, simulating air quotes as my agitation flared. “And it’s going to invite more speculation about us. About what we are. And I can’t?—”

I stopped.

The words were right there.

I can’t deal with that.

But I told him I would.

Had gotten down on my knees. Had looked him in the eye. Had promised.

And now I was breaking that promise.

Bell let out a long sigh, the kind of exhale that sounded like it carried a hundred weighty thoughts behind it, and then pushed slowly out of his chair, his palms lingering on the edge of the table like he needed a second to find his balance.

His eyes met mine, just for a beat. Not angry. Not even upset, really. Just … tired. “I’m gonna go call Jax back.”

Then he turned and walked inside.

I didn’t stop him.

I wanted to.

But I didn’t.

CHAPTER24

BELL

The locker room was quiet in that specific way it always was after a loss—just the low sounds of tape being peeled off, the occasional scrape of equipment dragging across concrete, and unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.

No chirps, no shit-talking. No fun.

Normally, I liked the noise of the locker room. The laughter, the light jabs, the way someone was always banging on something. But tonight, the quiet fit my mood a little too well.

I peeled off my sweaty gloves and dropped them at my feet. Folding forward to unlace my skates, I winced, the burn in my quads a sharp reminder of all the forechecking that hadn’t paid off. Fuck. The bruise on my ankle from blocking that clapper in the second was already darkening. I’d have to keep an eye on that. Slowly, carefully, I unfastened my shin guards, the velcro sounding overly loud in my ears.

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