Page 2 of The Pucks We Freeze
Even in the low light, I could tell he hadn’t changed. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders, his dark hair a little tousledand messy. A few strands fell into his eyes, giving him that boyish, half-awake kind of look. A short scruff lined his jaw, like he hadn’t bothered shaving all week.
It took him a second to realize I was there. And when our eyes met, the air shifted. It stretched tight between us, the same way it had that night.
He lowered the carton slowly and leaned back against the counter, as if it wasn’t strange at all. As if we weren’t two people who hadn’t spoken in months. His dark eyes, almost black, watched me like he was still trying to figure me out.
Kade’s eyes traveled down my body, calm and detached, as if he was studying someone he wasn’t sure he still recognized. They roamed over my blue jacket, zipped halfway up, then down to the gray skirt that clung to my legs.
I hadn’t dressed for Rixton’s colder weather, and now, standing in front of him like this, I suddenly felt every inch of it.
I stared at him, blinking through the fog of disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
Kade didn’t move, didn’t blink. “I could ask you the same thing.”
The silence stretched between us, heavy and awkward. My heart was pounding, too many pieces clicking together at once.
“You live here?” I asked finally, my voice quieter than I intended.
He shrugged his shoulder. “Sometimes. When I’m not crashing at the hockey house.”
I let out a breath, trying to make sense of it. “Right. Of course. You just happen to be here. In my dad’s kitchen.”
Kade tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady. “I didn’t know it wasyourdad’s place when I first moved in.”
I crossed my arms, the weight of everything settling in. “But you figured it out.”
His expression didn’t change, but the air around us did. “Yeah…”
“And you didn’t think I should know?” I asked, the words were sharper than I meant.
“You weren’t exactly reachable, Willow. Not after the way you ghosted me.”
I crossed my arms. “Well, congrats. Now I’m here to haunt you.”
The words came out with more bite than I intended, masking the knot twisting in my chest. I tried to meet his eyes, but something about the way he was looking at me made it harder to hold my ground.
The silence pressed down between us, heavy with all the things we never said. I opened my mouth to speak—to explain, maybe, or apologize—but nothing came out. Because the truth?
I didn’t have a good answer. Not one I was ready to say out loud.
We were interrupted by the sound of a door opening somewhere down the hall, followed by familiar footsteps. My dad’s voice echoed cheerfully a moment later. “There she is!”
I straightened instinctively, pulling away from the tension like I could hide it.
He walked into the kitchen, slowing slightly when he saw us both standing there.
“I see you’ve met Kade,” he said, smiling like this wasn’t the most awkward moment of my life.
I looked at him, still caught between confusion and disbelief. “Who’s the woman in the photo?”
He glanced toward the living room. “Oh, Lynette. My wife.”
I blinked, completely still. “Yourwhat?”
I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. The word stepbrother caught in my throat, like trying to swallow glass.
Kade didn’t say a word either. Just stood there, still leaning against the counter, his expression unreadable. I couldn’t tell if he was smug, uncomfortable, or just waiting for me to unravel.
I was dangerously close to the latter.
