Page 35 of Iced Out
The silence between us had thickened into something jagged—every word we didn’t say cut deeper than the ones we used to shout or scream about. I knew she hated the rift, even if she wouldn’t admit it—saw it in the way her gaze lingered on me too long, as though she was memorizing instead of mothering. Whatever she was protecting me from, it was pulling her further away.
The heaviness of it still clung to me as I followed Avery deeper into the clearing, the heat from the fire brushing my skin, as though it could burn away everything I didn’t want to feel.
A keg sat near the trees, flanked by a cooler of canned drinks and a haphazard lineup of rum, vodka, and tequila with a fewmixers thrown in as an afterthought. I grabbed a red Solo cup and filled it from the keg beer I didn’t really want—just enough to take the edge off. Then I followed Avery and Jasmine to a spot far enough from the crowd to pretend I wasn’t already counting down the seconds until I could leave.
The fire crackled behind us as I forced a smile, tapping my cup with Avery’s and pretending the world wasn’t spinning out beneath my feet. The music helped. So did the distraction of conversation, the lazy way Avery’s friend Jasmine talked about her English teacher’s tragic haircut, the bottle of something vaguely fruity that got passed around.
My guard dropped. Not all the way. But enough to breathe.
After I’d drained my subpar beer, I wandered toward the cooler to grab another drink, needing space for a second. The noise, the bodies, the looks—it was a lot.
That was when I felt it. That subtle shift in air pressure. The invasive presence behind me. I didn’t even have to turn around to know someone unwanted was moving in on me.
“Didn’t think you had the guts to show.” Logan’s nasally voice slithered against my ear.
I stiffened, closing the lid of the cooler slowly before turning to face him. “Back off.”
He smiled. Too wide. “Come on. Don’t be like that. Let’s take a walk. Clear the air.”
My grip on my still empty cup tightened. “I’m good right here.”
His hand shot out, meaty fingers wrapping around my wrist.
His thin smile sharpened. “Don’t make me ask twice.”
I yanked my arm, twisting hard, just the way Mom’s boyfriend Edwardo, who owned the gym, had taught me. His grip slipped, and I was free. “You touch me again,” I growled, “you’ll regret it.”
He laughed as if I hadn’t just meant every word. And then he wasn’t laughing anymore. Because Luke was there. Between us in less than a breath.
His fist slammed into Logan’s jaw, the crack echoing through the trees. Logan staggered, spit flying, nearly toppling into the cooler.
Everyone froze. The party around us stuttered, the music still thumping, but now it felt off-beat—as though even the bass was holding every other breath.
Luke didn’t flinch. He loomed over Logan, shoulders squared, eyes all ice and fury. “I warned you once. That was your shot. You touch her again, you don’t walk away.”
Logan’s hand went to his jaw, blood blooming from his split lip. He looked around as if maybe someone would step in. But no one moved. Jax, Chase, Theo—they were already closing in behind Luke and me.
“You think I was kidding about laying hands on her?” Luke’s voice cut like a blade.
Logan sneered through blood. “She’s not yours. Not anymore. You made that clear at the start of the school year.”
“Maybe not.” Luke’s voice was deadly calm. “But she sure as fuck isn’t yours either.”
Logan’s fist clenched, his expression mutinous, and for one terrible second, I thought he might be dumb enough to swing. But he wasn’t that stupid. He looked at the guys behind Luke. Read the room. Then he spat on the ground near my feet and stalked off toward the shadows.
I stood there, still vibrating with leftover adrenaline, my wrist throbbing where he’d grabbed me.
Luke turned to me, jaw clenched, eyes dark. “You okay?”
“I was handling it.”
“Doesn’t mean you had to do it alone.”
I didn’t answer. Didn’t trust what would come out of my mouth. Because his voice—low, quiet, rough at the edges—cut straight through my defenses. Not cold, or cruel, just honest. And it undid me. That wasn’t the Luke who’d iced me out since I came back. That wasn’t the Luke who watched me skate and said nothing, because yeah, I’d clocked him there. That was someone else. Someone dangerous and familiar. And I didn’t know what scared me more—that I didn’t recognize him anymore. Or that I still wanted to.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LUKE
