Page 58 of Ice Cold, Red Hot
Was I already ruining everything?
As I moved beyond the rink doors, the glare of the hallway lights was replaced by the soft glow of the outdoor lighting that lined the walkways around campus.
There was a distinct chill in the air as I stepped out, but we’d had a warm snap in the past few weeks that lingered just beneath the cooling breeze. I glanced around finding clusters of people—many of them looking disappointed. Finally, my eyes landed on a sole figure sitting on the bench farthest from the doors, waiting alone. Her wavy dark hair was down, glinting strands of reddish gold in the soft lights from above. She was wrapped in a coat, her hands stuffed into the pockets. She was looking up at the sky as I approached, her face aglow as if it were a spring day and she was just taking in some sun.
“Hey,” I said, and she startled, letting out a soft chuckle just after meeting my eyes.
“Sorry, I was in my own world.”
“Mind if I—” I indicated the bench beside her.
“Sure, yeah.” She watched me warily, as if I might snap. I didn’t blame her. I hadn’t been anything close to predictable where she was concerned. Hell, I hadn’t even been nice.
“So, I?—”
“The game?—”
We both started at the same time, and then stopped, a tense silence replacing the rushed words. I turned to face her.
“I was just going to say I’m sorry about the game,” shesaid. “I know how much hockey means to you. I know you hoped to go further, but it was a really amazing match.”
I nodded. “It was. I don’t think we could have done anything differently.”
Her eyes raked my face, searching. “You’re not upset?”
I blew out a breath, searching around inside myself. It surprised me as much as it clearly surprised her. “No, not really. Disappointed, sure. I’d be upset if I’d screwed up. Or if I’d gotten in a fight… if I’d let my impulses rule me. But tonight, I didn’t.”
She nodded. “I noticed that.”
I smiled. It was something I was proud of. I had never realized how much all the expectation and pressure got to me on the ice. It nearly stole the love I had for the game. But tonight? I’d played for me. “Thanks.”
We sat for a long moment, both of us letting our eyes drift up to the sky, and I realized why Celeste had been looking up when I’d found her. “Wow,” I said.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
The stars were intensely bright. It was a moonless night, and the sky looked like an enhanced version of itself, like what you’d see at a planetarium.
“It reminds me of the lake this summer,” I said. “When there were no city lights around to dim them.”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice soft, breathy.
She didn’t say anything else, and I knew this was on me. I had so much to say to her though, I wasn’t sure where to start.
“I think about this summer a lot,” I said.
“Me too.”
Looking at the stars made it a little bit easier to saywhat was on my mind, so I kept my gaze fixed on the pinpricks of light around and above us, and she did the same.
“Meeting you… it was like…” I swallowed hard. “It was like you were the first person who ever saw me as I was. For me.”
“As opposed to?”
“You didn’t care about hockey. About my family. My brother.”
“I didn’t know about any of that,” Celeste reminded me, leaning in slightly and bumping my shoulder. “You were just some guy at the lake.”
The contact between us lightened things a bit. “Oh yeah? Some guy, huh?”
