Page 10 of Switching Skates
“I mean, he didn’t exactly want to talk to me when he left for college without a word, like a child.” My anger resurfaces. “He doesn’t deserve to hear from me.”
Sitting up taller, she nods sharply. “You’re right. Screw him. You can literally get any guy you want. You certainly don’t need him.”
She grabs the remote from the coffee table. “I know just the fix you need right now.”
A moment later,Ice Princessbegins playing on the TV.
Fuck.
My chest has been in agony since I ran into Daphne yesterday, a twisted knot that I can’t seem to shake.
I knew that an encounter with her was inevitable, especially with her being a skater. We were bound to run into one another at the rink. I just didn’t expect it to hurt so damn much. Like a hot, burning iron being plunged down my throat.
It’s been four years since I held her, kissed her, claimed her as mine. Four long years of torment and regret for ever walking away.
I was fucking stupid—I know that. I was trying to do the noble thing and not date my sister’s best friend. I was graduating high school and moving hours away.
There’s no way it would have worked out … right? And honestly, I was fucking terrified of the things she made me feel. I ran … like a coward.
Seeing her again felt like getting hit by a train. She looks incredible. So goddamn beautiful. She always has been, but now, her features are sharper, fiercer. Her hair is longer and somehow more vibrant. And her curves have filled out in all of the best places.
I force the thought of my hands palming her round hips and full breasts out of my mind, but the image is too goddamn hot; it’s burned permanently.
Get it together, Mason.
But her eyes are what have changed the most.
Not the color or the shape, but the new harshness in her gaze toward me. But I don’t blame her. I deserve all of it, and I’ll take whatever anger she dishes out my way.
Maybe I should just talk to her to try to clear the air. We’re going to cross paths more than she’d probably like. I’ve been secretly looking forward to having her on campus. Of being near her again.
I think I convinced myself over the last couple of years that I never liked her as much as I remembered. But I was wrong. It couldn’t be more the opposite. She might never want to see me again, but I can’t say the same.
I haven’t been with anyone since I shared that perfect night with her. I haven’t wanted to. Being a college hockey player keeps me busy enough to stay distracted from any … distractions.
I’ve been hers all this time, even though she doesn’t know it. Even in the moments late at night with my hand wrappedaround myself, her name is the one I whimper, the mouth I imagine, the voice in my head begging for more.
I’ve been in denial the last couple of weeks, or years, trying to actually believe that I don’t want her back.
I was lying to myself.Aggressively.
Pulling the rink door open, I try not to talk myself out of what I’m doing. Telling myself that this isn’t too far. But it’s too late.
Ross told me that Daphne would be coaching for the Mini Mammoths, the youth training program offered here on campus. It wasn’t too hard to find out what class she’d be in charge of. Especially since I’ve been stalking the rink since this morning, waiting for her to arrive.
Approaching the door to rink three, I peer through the window, looking for a glimpse of her, but all I see are little kids.
And then she comes into view, and I suck in a breath.
She glides like an angel, effortlessly skating around and correcting the kids’ form and positioning.
Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing every inch of her stunning face. She’s so mesmerizing; I can’t take my eyes off her.
Is it painful for her to skate?
I heard about the accident after it happened. Maeve told me about it. Yet another way I fucked everything up between Daphne and me.
I typed, deleted, and retyped a message to her about a thousand times before I realized it was too late to reach out without seeming even more like an ass.
