Page 80 of Wallflower
The doors leading to the ice fly open, and Chord stalks through. My stomach flips at the sight of him—tall and broad, face flushed, dark hair damp, kitted out in his Fury colors.
His eyes land on us, and his step falters before he clenches his jaw and strides over. Charlie stands a second before I do, and I check the time to see where we are on the schedule.
“Break time?” I ask.
“Yeah.” His eyes shift to Charlie and away again. “Kind of. Izzy wants to go for a spin, Daisy’s going to join her, and some of the boys agreed to play pick-up with Dylan, Finn, and your dad. Everyone else is going to do off-ice team-building exercises with the assistant coach.”
“Sounds like fun. Are you looking for skates?”
Chord rubs the back of his neck, and my heart breaks at how hard he’s trying to not look at Charlie. “Yeah. Do you know where I can find them?”
“I’ll ask someone about the rentals desk, but everyone will need to meet me there to try them on.”
“Great. Thanks.”
There’s an awkward pause before Charlie says, “I’ll take a pair too.”
Warmth bursts from my chest as Chord’s brows leap, and his hand drops away from his neck. “Yeah?”
Charlie shrugs. “Sure. Once upon a time, I was pretty good on the ice.”
“No. You werefantasticon the ice.” Chord moves a step closer. “Thanks for coming. It’s cool that you’re all here.”
She fights a smile and rolls her eyes like she’s embarrassed. “All right. Are we going to do this or what?”
“Yes!” I take a few quick steps backward. “You two go back in while I locate the rentals, then I’ll meet everyone back here in five.”
Chord reaches over and grasps my hand to pull me in for a quick kiss. I blush and look around to make sure nobody from the team saw it, and his mouth lifts up at the corner.
“Thanks, Wallflower,” he whispers.
I’m well out of earshot before I look back down the corridor, warmth radiating to every cell in my body at Chord and Charlie side by side as they head back to the rink.
thirty-one
Chord
33 DAYS TILL HOCKEY SEASON
I pace the lengthof the front porch and discreetly check my watch. As I pass Violet again, curled up with her sketchbook in the white Adirondack chair, she raises her head and spares me a curious but slightly exasperated look from behind her big glasses. She’s so fucking cute.
“What’s the matter with you today?” she asks. “You’re all… twitchy.”
I force myself to stop moving and drop into the chair opposite her. Her brows draw together, and when I’m quiet for too long, she closes her sketchbook, sets it and her pencil on the table between us, and clasps her hands in her lap. The look she gives me is affectionate patience.
I check my watch again, then glance anxiously at the driveway. Fuck it.
“Don’t get mad,” I begin.
Violet chuckles, but her expression is confused. “When have you ever seen me get mad?”
“Then don’t freak out.”
She presses her lips together before dragging the bottom one between her teeth. “Chord—”
“And don’t say no.”
“Okay, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
