Page 20 of Iced Out
I nodded. “She’s pissed he’s not looking at her.”
“Exactly.”
My pencil stilled mid-equation. Luke’s name struck, hard enough to leave me reeling.
Avery noticed. Of course she did. “Whatever happened between you two? It left marks. On both of you.”
I looked up slowly, meeting her gaze. “Yeah,” I said. “It did.” The kind that didn’t fade. That burned new every time he looked at me like I was something he wanted to forget.
She didn’t look away. Neither did I as the truth of the matter lay bare between us. I wasn’t going to explain myself, and she wasn’t asking me too. Her trust in me to let it lie was humbling.
“Come to the game with me.”
I didn’t even think, just—fuck no. “That’s a hard pass, Aves.”
Her lips twitched again at the old nickname. “Luke’s on the ice. He and my brother can’t do anything. No scenes. No bullshit. Jasmine and Margie will be there too.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I wasn’t friends with them. She knew that. I hadn’t been friends with anyone other than her and the guys. But that all changed in one night when Mom and I left without goodbyes or an explanation.
She shrugged. “No. I supposed it doesn’t. You never hung out with anyone except the guys or me. Still, I want you to come with. It’ll be fun. And they’re nice. They won’t give you shit, promise.”
The hockey games were a rush, but going there… “I don’t know. Luke won’t like that I’m there.”
“Pffft. When has that ever stopped you from doing something?” Her brows rose in challenge. “Or are you not the same person I used to know?”
That hit harder than it should’ve. Not because it wasn’t true. But because she was right. I didn’t even know who the hell I was anymore since coming back here.
I tapped my pencil against hers, a smile slowly spreading across my face, so damn grateful she’d forgiven me and let me back in so easily. Too easily. It made me nervous. What kind of penance hadn’t I paid yet? “Fine. I’ll go, even if only to keep Chase off your back.”
“Come on.” Her phone pinged, and she rolled her eyes. The name was easy to read with her phone sitting face up on the table. Chase was checking in on her for the third time that night. “I love him, but I swear he still thinks I’m ten. Or maybe it’s because I was a shell of my former self last year—he thought I would be the next Rachel. I promise you, I wasn’t anywhere close to being on the ledge like that.” She shrugged, brushing off the heavy topic. “He’s a serious pain in my ass. I should just call him the vagina blocker.”
I snorted a laugh then rolled my eyes as the only other person that remained in the library turned and glared before pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. With a shake of my head at the ridiculousness of it all, the last of the tension between my shoulders eased since the moment my old friend sat down across from me.
It was a bad idea, but when had that ever stopped me before? “I’ll meet you there.”
Avery shrieked, earning another glare from the bookworm a table over. We agreed on a time and then headed out. I needed to drop my books at home, grab a sandwich, and maybe wash myface. There was no way I was dressing differently, except to grab a hoodie if I was cold, which I would be. The jeans and T-shirt I had on blended in, the hoodie would even more so, and that was what I wanted.
An hour later, I stood inside the entrance of Blackwood’s arena, a thousand misgivings running through my mind. The crowd was loud as Avery dragged me through the entrance anyway, her grip ironclad as she muttered about needing a wingwoman. The noise of the crowd swelled enough to crawl under my skin in an itchy sort of way. I trailed behind her through the aisles and to my dawning horror, the front seats behind the box.
I should have known she would sit there. It was the section we used to lay claim to. As we arrived at the end of the aisle, the hockey team filed onto the bench in front of us, all bulk and blades.
Avery’s friend Jasmine waved us over. I kept my gaze straight ahead, refusing to look through the plexiglass to my left. It was the only thing that separated us and the team, specifically Luke and the rest of his crew. The hair on the back of my neck rose from the sensation of being watched.
I took measured breaths then eased into the empty seat next to Avery. She leaned close, her light floral perfume wrapping around me, pushing away the unwelcome scent of hot dogs and popcorn. I wasn’t a wimp, but I also was not a sadist. And going to the hockey game was asking for Luke’s attention, and therefore, trouble.
My chin rose, and my resolve hardened. I was being ridiculous. He could bring it. There wasn’t anything he could do that would break me.
Avery chatted with her friends for a few minutes, but when she snorted, I pocketed my phone that I was scrolling through and followed her gaze to where Chase stood in front of thebench, arms crossed, gaze scanning the seats around us like he was waiting for trouble. Even at the top as the guys were, they had enemies, especially on the other school’s team. That was probably what was setting her brother and Jax even more on edge.
Jax watched. It was subtle, barely noticeable. But I saw it. The way his jaw ticked. After checking the crowd seated around us, his gaze kept returning to Avery. For someone who wasn’t supposed to care, Jax sure seemed interested in Chase’s sister.
The coach pulled the team’s attention to him. A hush swept through the crowd right before announcements, and the national anthem was sung. Then the game started, and a thrill raced through my body. The first line took to the ice, and when I watched Luke skate into position, something in my chest tightened. I couldn’t look away as the puck dropped, and our team went on the offensive.
He was in his element. Unstoppable. The star of Blackwood, slicing through the rink as if it was his. I recognized how he called the play with a nod, the way the others—Jax, Chase, even Theo—adjusted without hesitation. Jax delivered a check that sent a guy sprawling. Chase set up a screen just long enough for Theo to rocket the puck into the net. And Luke? He controlled the rhythm. The energy. The outcome. The same way he used to control every heartbeat in my chest.
He skated like he was born for this—sharp, powerful, precise. The crowd chanted his name after a breakaway goal that left the other team stunned.
And me? I just sat there, trying not to remember what it felt like to be the one he looked for in the stands. Now, he didn’t even have to look at me to make it clear where we stood.
