Page 33 of At the Edge with You

With her shoulders back, her back ramrod straight, and her dainty little nose in the air, she looks every bit a well-bred Winthrop. Someone I know who is completely out of my league. But fuck if I don’t want to play in that league with her.

With her voice tight and her eyes in slits, she tells me, “There is absolutely nothing I want to know about you that I don’t already know. Now, can we please get through my notes?”

I hold her gaze, and it bothers me that she doesn’t want to know anything about me.

But most of all, it drives me wild that I want to know every single thing about her.

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

Fable

I usually skate daily to maintain my endurance and keep my skills up to par, but for the last two weeks, I’ve skated so I don’t murder Jett Cook.

Alanis Morissette’sJagged Little Pillfills the rink as I dig my skates into the ice and skate off my frustration. He makes me crazy. It doesn’t matter what I suggest; he has an issue with it. I want to advertise the figure skating program during Beer League games, but he says it’s dumb because no one is reading ads, they’re watching him play.

Cocky asshole!

I suggest we do an overhaul of the pro shop, but he doesn’t want to give up his hockey space. When I said I’ll take one of the birthday rooms, he lost his damn mind and caved on the space in the pro shop. Everything I need to do to get the figure skating program afloat, he doesn’t agree with. I want to revamp our budget, but he doesn’t want to give more money to the program because it’s not bringing in money. Doesn’t he know you’ve got to spend money to make money! In the two weeks since our firstmeeting, the only thing he’s agreed to is the email newsletter, as long as I’m the one doing it.

He’s a fucking pain!

I’m sure he is so disagreeable because he loves to see me lose it. Each time I start yelling or snapping at him, he gets this grin on his face that I want to smack right the hell off. He doesn’t stop staring at my boobs, and I swear he is flirting with me. But that can’t be. He has never flirted with me before, but I can see his eyes wander, and a heated look settles in his gaze every time.

He confuses the hell out of me, but I know that’s his game plan.

Drive me so damn crazy that I leave.

Jackass.

I’m going to stay just to drive him as crazy as he’s driving me!

I do a series of leaps so I don’t go to the east rink where he is currently coaching and throttle him. We have continued our morning meetings, in which we spend an hour going back and forth about everything I want to do. This morning was extra rough since he doesn’t want to spend the amount we need to upgrade the west rink.

I don’t understand how my grandpa let this rink get so shitty. While the ice is pristine, everything else is so run-down. The walls are white and chipping, the boards are all scuffed up and dented. The benches for skaters to sit on are rotten, and I had to pick a splinter out of my ass just last week. The same goes for the bleachers. They are the same from the ’90s, made of now-rotten wood, with big, open gaps between the seating rows that children can fall into. It’s not family-friendly, and I can’t coach under these conditions.

I took over coaching this week with my three skaters, and while they’re amazing kids with so much potential, I can’t enjoy myself because I hate seeing their families having to stand. I can’t help the feeling that they think they’re wasting their timeand money because everything is so outdated. I want this to be comfortable, a home for my skaters.

Just as it is for me.

When I told this to Jett, he didn’t seem concerned. No matter what I want, he fights back. And today, I left before we could even reach a compromise. I couldn’t handle him anymore; all I wanted to do was blast some rage music and skate so that orange doesn’t become my only wardrobe color choice.

As I skate backward, my hair flying in the wind I’m making, I lose myself to the music. I allow myself to move to each beat, dancing and making up my own moves as I sing along to all my favorites. While I move, I almost consider bringing in Bea to help me, to convince Jett to agree with me. But I won’t show that kind of weakness.

If Jett wants to do battle, well, I have no issue going toe-to-toe with him.

Follow his lead, over my dead body.

I glare at nothing, my whole face scrunching up as I shift into a two-foot spin. I spin more times than required, but I need the rush. I love the feeling of almost falling. It makes me feel alive.

When I come out of the spin, I find that I’m not alone. A teenage girl leans on the bench, her dark reddish-brown hair up in a high ponytail with lots of strands falling in her eyes. As I come to a stop, I take in her bright-blue eyes, her cherubic cheeks, and with her size, she reminds me of me when I was her age. I put a smile on my face as I skate over to her. Her eyes widen, almost as if she’s coming out of a trance. She stands up straight as I reach her, and she looks so uncomfortable, I’m worried she’ll run.

“Hey,” I say softly. “I’m Fable. How are you?”

She gives me a timid smile. “Hi. Sorry, I saw you skating and wanted to come watch.”

“No problem. This wasn’t a closed skate. Do you skate?”

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