Page 89 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

“‘Cause I’m not. Technically.”

“Technically? I thought you said you were at practice?”

“I was,” I return, grabbing her hand and guiding her to the couch. I have a feeling I’m gonna need to sit down for this.

“How are you not technically on the team?” she asks, keeping a few inches of distance between us. Like she’s guarding herself even though I know I’ve done nothing wrong.

Jaw clenched, I grit out, “Because I don’t want to play in any of the games.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not ready,” I answer. “And what’s with the interrogation? It’s only practice.”

“But it isn’t only practice,” she argues. “I…” She chews on her lower lip, her gaze darting around the room as she looks anywhere but at me.

“What’s wrong?” I demand, too exhausted to tiptoe around shit today. Practice was hell. I was too busy worrying about her, Shorty, and Mia to focus, and my teammates took full advantage by putting me in my place.

I felt like a rookie on the ice.

It sucked.

“Logan never wanted me at any of his games,” she whispers. “At the time, I thought it was because he was superstitious and didn’t want me to rock the boat or anything. But later, I realized it’s probably because of all the puck bunnies in the crowd. You know, the ones he’d been sleeping with behind my back. He didn’t want me to run into any of them.” She runs her fingers through her hair, pushing the long waves away from her face as she shakes her head in disbelief. “Like, how shitty, right? How naive can a girl be? I know I should’ve questioned things. I know I should’ve called him out for his crap, but when you’re so used to being an afterthought like with your own parents, it’s hard to push it aside and stand up for yourself, but that’s not the point. My point is, Logan didn’t want me to have anything to do with hockey––which is a big part of his life, mind you––all because his side pieces liked to hang out at the rink.”

I feel like I’ve been slapped, and I flinch back a few inches, rubbing my hand over my face, defeated. “You think I have a side piece?”

“I think I don’t know what to think,” she admits, her eyes glassy. She blinks the moisture away. “I think I’m probably going to have trust issues for a while, thanks to Logan, and I think I’m being ridiculous because we aren’t even really a couple, so it’s not even possible for you to have a side piece. But it still hurts.”

“Ash––”

“I feel like you lied to me.”

“I didn’t––”

“You did, though. Maybe not explicitly, but you kept me in the dark on something kind of a big deal for you. It hurts. How could you not tell me you’re on the team?”

“Because I’m not on the team,” I repeat, cradling my head in my hands. This can’t be happening. We can’t be fighting over something as stupid as hockey.

“Yeah. Well. It seems like you kind of are. And I know you don’t owe me anything, but it hurt to find out the way I did.”

I look up at her again. “Ash––”

“Look. If I learned anything from my shitty relationship with Logan, it’s I need to voice my needs. I need to stand up for myself. I need to express myself. So, that’s what I’m trying to do. And what I need right now is honesty. Can you give it to me?”

It hits me then. We aren’t fighting because of hockey. We’re fighting because Logan’s an ass, and she’s learning how to trust again.

But she’s talking to me about it.

She’s trying to be open. To be honest.

And I’ve been an ass for not doing the same.

I cup her cheek, dragging my thumb along her sensitive skin. “There is no one but you, Sunshine.”

Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she bites down hard, causing the flesh to turn white from the pressure. I pull it out of her mouth with my thumb and caress it softly.

“I’m moving at your pace because I think it’s what you need and because Logan was shit at giving you any control in the relationship. But I’m in this, Ash. You and me. No one else.”

“Promise?” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut.

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