Page 106 of Cold Front
My breath hitched.
Chase’s easy smile cracked. “Since when?”
“Since it stopped being you,” Niall said.
Chase’s jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You’re just gonna let him talk for you?” he asked, glaring at me. “You really think this guy’s gonna love you the way I did?”
“God, I hope not,” I said.
Niall leaned in slightly. “If you show up here again, I’ll report you for harassment.”
Chase scoffed. “Harassment? I just wanted to talk.”
“Talk’s over,” Niall said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Matter of fact, I think I’ll go ahead and make that call now.” He flipped to the dial screen, his other arm still wrapped securely around me. “Eli, you all right, babe?”
I exhaled, my heart pounding for a completely different reason now. I turned my head, meeting Niall’s steady gaze. “I’ll always be okay as long as you’re with me.”
“You should go. Now!” Niall’s voice was calm, deadly.
Chase’s face twisted, something ugly flashing across it. “Fine, be with him,” he spat out, his eyes twin flames on me. “Just don’t come crying back when it falls apart.”
Niall didn’t even flinch. He angled his body, shielding mine fully behind his. Calm, steady, cold.
“It won’t,” he said. “Now get the fuck out.”
Chase stared at my man like he wanted to say more—but then he turned, storming off down the hallway.
As soon as Niall shut the door, I sagged against him. Then, suddenly, we both started laughing. Maybe it was sheer relief, maybe it was just the absurdity of it all. I turned to face my boyfriend, and he pulled me closer, his forehead dropping to mine as our laughter faded into something softer.
“I meant it,” he murmured. “You’re my boyfriend.Mine.”
“Yes, baby,” I whispered. “And you’re mine.”
His lips brushed against mine, and I smiled against his mouth. “C’mon,” I said, tugging him toward the couch. “Let me thank my bad-ass boyfriend properly.”
Niall chuckled, following without hesitation.
CHAPTER41
NIALL
The roar of the crowd filled the arena, vibrating through my chest as I skated into position. The scoreboard was blank, the clock set, the ice beneath my skates freshly cut and gleaming under the lights. Michigan versus Arizona. The thirteenth game in a brutal rivalry, dead even at six wins apiece. We needed this one.
I rolled my shoulders, gripping my stick as I took my place at center ice. Across from me, Arizona’s center—big, strong, and grinning like he already owned the night—smirked.
“You ready for another loss, Caldwell?”
I ignored him, rolling my neck, forcing my shoulders to stay loose. Trash talk was part of the game, but my head wasn’t there. I was still searching the stands.
Eli said he’d be here. I knew he wouldn’t bail, not without a reason.
A weight I didn’t realize I was still carrying settled in my chest. This morning, I’d looked Chase in the eye and told him what I hadn’t even let myself say out loud before then—Eli was mine. My boyfriend. And I’d meant it. No hesitation. No fear. And when Eli had turned to me, breathless and sure, telling me I was his too, it had felt like something inside me finally clicked into place.
So why did my chest still feel tight?
I exhaled sharply, pushing the doubt away. This wasn’t like before. It wasn’t like when I was eighteen, when I expected my parents to be in the stands and didn’t know they’d never make it. Eli wouldn’t let me down. He wouldn’t just disappear.
The ref skated in, puck in hand. I snapped my focus back, lowering into position, my stick blade hovering just above the ice. The puck dangled in his grip, seconds from dropping.
