Page 33 of Iced Out
The chill clung to me even after I left the rink. I didn’t let Mila see I’d been standing there. She moved as if nothing touched her. Watching her that way—so sure, so alone—it twisted something raw in my chest. I wanted to go to her. Drag her off the ice and demand answers she would never give me. Or maybe just press my hands to her hips, ground us both in something real for a second.
But I didn’t. Because no matter what I wanted, I didn’t trust her. Not anymore. Probably never again.
By the time I got to Jax’s place, the bonfire was already raging. Flames licked the air, casting golden light over the lawn that sloped toward the lake. Sparks floated up like fireflies. The thud of bass pulsed from a speaker someone had set near a cooler, mixing with laughter, the crinkle of chip bags, the pour of the keg, and the hiss of popped beer tabs a select few had access to.
I dropped onto a log near the edge of the fire, elbows on my knees, hands threaded together. The guys were already halfway through a case, but the air was off. It was impossible not to feel the undercurrent. The shift.
Theo nudged my shin with the toe of his boot, a mischievous smirk curving his mouth. “You skip your nightly meditation skate or just miss being worshipped at school?”
I gave him a flat, borderline murderous look. “Keep running your mouth and I’ll show you how cold that lake really is.”
Jax grinned, leaned over, and tossed another log on the bonfire. “Nah, man. It’s Mila. Girl shows up, and suddenly our fearless leader’s short-circuiting. Never seen you this edgy.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered, eyes locked on the fire.
But something in me was breaking down. Piece by piece. Mila had come back and taken every rule I’d built and lit them on fire. I didn’t know what she was after. I couldn’t tell if she was toying with me like her mom had played half this damn town—or if the hurt in her eyes was real.
Itfeltreal. And that was the problem.
Chase wandered out of the shadows and over to us, hoodie pulled over his head, shoulders tense.
“What’s going on with him?” I elbowed Jax.
“He hasn’t said much all night. Not sure what it is.” Jax cracked open a fresh beer. “Where’s Avery?” he asked Chase, testing the waters.
Chase just shot him a glare that said everything.
“Just asking, man. You said you thought she would show and to watch out for her,” Jax said, hands raised in mock surrender.
I let the silence stretch, eyes flicking over the rest of them. For a second—just one—it felt like before. Before secrets and threats and old ghosts returned with familiar eyes and a wicked tongue.
“I ever tell you guys,” Jax started, tipping his head back to look at the stars, “I miss when our biggest problems were game day and who had better hair?”
I smirked, just a flicker. “You peaked sophomore year.”
“Still have better stats than you this season,” he shot back, grinning like he hadn’t just lit a match.
“Keep dreaming.” Laughter sparked around the fire. Easy. Surface-level. But it didn’t last. Because none of this was easy anymore.
I glanced at Theo, who was nursing a beer and pretending not to pay attention. “Still screwing around with Tori?”
He blinked, caught off guard. “Why?”
I shrugged, ready to get to the heart of the problems going on during the day. “Because Elise and her crew don’t do anything without an angle. And right now, she’s gunning for Mila. That makes it our problem.”
“You want me to spy?” His lips twitched. “That’s cute. You going to pass me a note in class too?”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
I leaned forward, voice low. “I don’t care what you do with Tori. Just find out what Elise is planning. If she’s got dirt. If she’s targeting on Mila. I want to know first.”
Jax let out a low whistle. “And here I thought you were just trying to get laid.”
I ignored him. This wasn’t about pride or jealousy. It was about control. About Mila. And the gnawing, gut-deep knowing that I didn’t want anyone else touching her. Not Logan. Not anyone.
But every time I got close, there was another shadow. Her mom. Her past. The silence she wrapped around both. It all felt too close—a fire I hadn’t put out and now couldn’t stop from burning through everything.
