Page 45 of At the Edge with You

Kitty’s shoulders sag. “I don’t know what it is about him that makes her so evil. But can’t she see how amazing Jett is, how much he supports Fable?”

Everyone slowly nods as they look out onto the ice. Jett is at the point, moving a puck back and forth, but his eyes are off the ice. They all follow his gaze to find him watching Fable.

Not that anyone is surprised.

Kitty glances back at him to find his lips turned down and such pain in his eyes. He used to look at Fable like that whenthey were younger. As if even though she was within reach, she was miles away.

It gutted her then and still does.

“Does Fable know what her parents did?” Bea asks, pulling Kitty’s attention from the ice.

Kitty swallows thickly as she shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” She sighs harshly. “She already can’t stand them, and I worry something like that will have her running from this town once more.”

Bea nods as Hazel leans on her arm. Maggie bites into her lip. “I just want them to be happy.”

Once more, everyone agrees. “We can only support them,” Bea says, even though it’s clear in her voice she’d rather meddle in their business.

“They have to figure it out,” Hazel adds, and Kitty’s lips turn down.

“I just hope they do.”

Losing Phillip broke Kitty, but watching Fable not grab ahold of the happiness that could be hers would kill her.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Jett

Fable Winthrop has four gold medals, in my opinion—one for pairs skating, two for individual, and one for getting right up under my skin and living there.

She does it without even trying.

She leaves me breathless, my cock aching and my heart pounding.

And I’m a willing victim.

I still can’t believe how bright the torch I carry for her burns after all these years. I thought—shit, I prayed—that I wouldn’t feel a damn thing when I saw her at the funeral, but my thoughts and prayers went unheard. Instead, with each day that passes in the presence of my ice princess, the torch I hold for her burns ever brighter. I never had these feelings for anyone else. I’ve dated, I’ve hooked up, hell, I’ve gotten close to thinking about proposing to someone I thought I could be happy with, but nothing and no one compares to her. All these feelings I thought I had repressed over the years are back, front and center in my brain. They make me want to be reckless and admit everythingto her. I have this need to give in to the greedy thoughts and devour her the way I’ve always wanted to.

I almost did. I almost leaned in and took her pretty mouth with mine. I needed to feel her hips in my hands as I tasted her for the first time in my life. A taste I’ve been obsessed with and craving since I set eyes on her. She may put on an indifferent front with everyone else, but I can read Fable Winthrop like the most complex hockey drill. I know when she’s anxious, when she’s overwhelmed, or when her brain is going at speeds she can’t keep up with. I know when she’s excited, happy, and hyperfocused.

As a young man, I had to learn body language to make sure Mom and I were never in the way of my dad. I used what I learned by staying out of his way to learn everything about Fable instead. I memorized her body language, and though life has a way of going on, even when she’s not around me, I never allowed myself to forget a single thing about her.

Each day, I learn something new about adult Fable. But learning what she looks like turned on is something I wasn’t ready for.

I’ve seen some really great things, I’ve scored some pretty sick goals, I’ve held her over my head with ease, but Fable turned on is the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.

I thought I spotted it that time she saw me shirtless when Dean was too close to her for my liking. How her eyes moved along my body, her lips parting slightly as she drew in deep breaths. But when she told me “She grew up,” yeah, no way in hell could she hide that she wanted me. It was all over her face, obvious in how she leaned in toward me and how each word that left her mouth dripped with hunger. She didn’t even say much, but I was ready to come from the sounds and sights she was rewarding me with. She turns me on in all the ways I crave, in ways no one else could even inspire. But with her, it’s natural.

It’s her.

I still can’t fathom that anyone could make her feel like anything less than a goddess. I know her parents are assholes, but a guy she chose to be with made her feel less-than? That’s not okay. It infuriates me to know men have put it in her head that she’s a robot, because she’s not. Even from a young age, she had to keep everything she felt inside because her parents made her feel bad for being herself. I saw it many times, and even though I was younger and didn’t really know how, I tried to protect her. I’d distract her; I’d try to keep her from riding with them, offering rides with my girls and me. I wanted so desperately to make her unlearn what her parents pounded into her. In some ways, I think I did help. I know for sure if it weren’t for Kitty and Phillip, Fable wouldn’t have developed into the stunning, strong woman she is now. They never tried to keep her in a gilded cage, unlike how her parents wanted her to be.

How they still want her to be.

Even a week later, I can’t forget the way that Elena looked at me. Like I was the snot falling from a bear’s nose in her precious forest. It’s unfair how that one look knocked me back to when I was a confused, scared young man. Once more, the feelings of not measuring up to the expectations they have for the person who would be with their daughter hit me square in the chest. The many times they warned me to stay away from her outside of the ice still haunt me.

What was wrong with me? Hell, even now, why would I be so bad for her? I have had only her best interests in mind. I loved skating with her, yet I wasn’t good enough. I’m pretty sure they paid off their “friend” who was my coach in Ohio so that he’d take me. To break apart two people who needed each other. As a teenager, that fucked with my mind. Made me feel worthless.

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