Page 8 of Wrap Around
I’m skating circles around him and the other team. Outplaying them both.
I’m on fire.
The lamp keeps lighting up, and by the time the buzzer sounds, I’ve got my first hat trick, even if it’s only preseason. I skate off the ice to back pats and cheers from my teammates, feeling like one of them for the first time. Even Coach Dempsey looks impressed.
Gideon looks like he might snap his stick in half.
He doesn’t say a word. Jaw tight. Eyes sharp. He’s fuming, and I know why. He can’t retaliate, not without making himself look petty or hurting the team’s momentum. And I’m not giving him an opening.
Not tonight.
After the game I rush through the showers, toweling off in record time. For once I'm the one ignoring him. And my heart is thudding with something other than anger or stress induced adrenaline for once.
Lily and Adaline are here.Finally.
My girls are waiting.
CHAPTER 4
GIDEON
Silas bolts from the locker room like he's got a fire under him. I know where he's going before I follow him, and sure enough, I find him out in the hall with his arms wrapped around my sister. He's holding her tight like he's afraid she might disappear. He spins her around, and she laughs, face tilted back like it's the first time she's felt joy in too long. Likewise, Silas looks relieved, like he hasn't breathed in days or weeks or months, or however long it's been since they were together last.
I saw Lily in the arena, sitting behind the team box with the other wives and families. She tried to wave, but I avoided eye contact with her like it might burn me. We've talked very little over the last three years, mostly just over email. It hurts too much to see her face, to know she's living the life I once dreamed of having. Well, not exactly, but she has him—The man gazing at her like she's solely responsible for the sun rising each day. For him, it's clear that's the truth.
Then he looks down and gasps, reaching down to lift the baby into the air.
Adaline.
My niece that I've only ever seen pictures of.
"Dada!" she yells, delighted.
He throws her high in the air and catches her, presses loud raspberries to her neck until she's shrieking with giggles. Then he kisses her chubby cheeks, her forehead, her nose, everywhere he can land his loud smacking kisses, like he can't get enough. She squeals, tiny hands gripping the collar of his shirt.
"Addy! I missed you so much! Have you been good for your mama?"
The genuine love between the three of them cuts through me like a knife.
I love my sister. Always have. We were close, always covering and protecting each other from our parent's stern wrath. Even knowing they've been married for the last three years, knowing that they had a baby together and have been together since we were all in our early teens, before we started public school, it's surreal to see them this way. Even though they were together, they never acted like it. We were always a trio back then, just three best friends being idiots together. There was never even a moment that I think I really considered that they were truly together, really boyfriend and girlfriend, because they never acted differently when I was around. I never saw any sort of public affection, no hand holding or stolen glances. Nothing.
Mostly, I thought it was the church that kept them that way. We were all expected to save ourselves for marriage, after all. And none of us really knew much about the activities we were saving ourselves from. We were innocent. Ignorant. Naïve.
I never once imagined they were together physically. I never even considered if they kissed each other, much less had sex. It was unfathomable back then.
But now… I can't stop thinking aboutourkiss.
Did he kiss her like that back then? Does she know? Does he touch her with that same fire that made my bones feel like they were melting? Does he make her feel the way he made me feel that day on the bank of the lake, when my entire world imploded and I tasted something I hadn't realized I was starving for?
The thought makes my stomach twist and my chest tight.
I don't want to imagine it. I don't want to think about him whispering the same things, touching her the same way, giving her the same kind of pleasure he gave me. But the images come anyway, uninvited and cruel. The way he leaned in, tugging me closer like he couldn't stand for us to be even a breath apart. The way his mouth found mine. The way his lips moved against mine with confidence, with heat, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like he'd done it before.
I trusted him. I fell into the moment, trusted him to lead me into temptation, to show me what it could be like to be wanted and touched. To be seen by the one man I'd loved for as long as I could remember. I let him take the reins because I didn't know how and never considered that it was strange that he was so confident. That he seemed to know what he was doing.
It wasn't until much later that it occurred to me he'd clearly had experience. He knew what he was doing. Was it because he'd practiced with her? Was he that sure of himself because he'd already put his hands on someone before? Because he'd already crossed that line with my own fucking sister?
