Fake Skating(34)

“Those are the only options?” I asked, hating that my voice sounded thick and like I was going to cry. “You’re only coming back to the States if I leave Mom and live with you full-time?”

“There’s no need to get emotional, Daniella; I’m just trying to have a conversation.”

“I’m not emotional,” I said, fully aware of how defensive I sounded. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“It’s simple. I’m happy to leave Ramstein to spend time with you, but if that’s not what you want, I’m probably going to stay here. Does that make sense?”

God, I hated the way my dad always said that. Does that make sense? He never failed to make me feel like a stupid little kid when he threw out those four words.

He was watching me with zero emotion on his face, sternly observing my pathetic attempt at holding mine in. Why couldn’t he ever make things easy? All I wanted was an easy relationship with him, and it felt like all he wanted was the opposite.

Or that he wanted me to prove my devotion to him by hurting my mom.

“Yes, it does,” I managed, lowering my voice to sound chill while I struggled to keep it together.

He couldn’t really be serious about this, could he?

“I know your mother won’t be thrilled with this plan,” he said, “But I think if she knows it’s what you want, she’ll be okay with it. She’s so determined to live with your grandfather that I don’t think she’s focusing on anything else.”

“Um, when do you need to give an answer?” I asked, forcing my face not to fall, hating how high-strung I sounded.

“I’d prefer to knock this out as quickly as possible,” he said, steepling his fingers under his chin like he was having a business conversation and not asking his daughter to tear out her mother’s heart. “Since you just moved there, the pieces should still be simple to reconfigure.”

“I don’t think I can do this to Mom,” I admitted in an almost whisper, trying to blink away the tears that were filling my eyes.

“But you found a way, with me,” he said quietly, and I was shocked by his words and how hurt he looked. Colonel Collins didn’t gethurt; he was a robot.

Wasn’t he?

“That’s not—”

“Sometimes choices aren’t easy, Daniella.”

“I know, but…” I turned the phone away from me, pointing it toward the roof so he couldn’t see me wiping away the tears.

“Okay, so now we’re crying,” he said disappointedly, sighing loudly, and I was glad I couldn’t see his face. “I’m sorry if you’re upset, and I’m not going to force you to move. I thought this might be something you’d want.”

My chest was so tight it hurt. “I dowant to—”

“No, I don’t think that you do,” he interrupted.

I couldn’t believe I was crying in the middle of a hockey rink, like full-on crying, but I couldn’t seem to stop the emotions as I listened to his voice. He went back and forth between making me feel guilty and making me feel sad; it was an infinite loop that had me in a choke hold.

I kept wiping at my cheeks and trying to get it together, but I felt precariously close to sobbing when I heard him disconnect the call.

And then—shit, shit, shit—I heard voices.

I didn’t have a visual on who was coming or where they were, but I also couldn’t see through my tears. All I knew was that I couldn’t have anyone at this school or on this hockey team see me bawling like a baby at the hockey rink.

I got off the bench and ran for the maintenance closet. I needed to lock myself in a dark room and get my shit together before I saw anyone.

Please be unlocked please be unlocked.

As someone who didn’t cry a lot, I found it alarming how freely the tears were flowing. There was no hiding that I was crying, and there was no stopping my eyes from whatever they were doing.

I reached for the handle—thank you for being unlocked—and opened the door, then quickly slipped inside and shut it behind me.

But I immediately knew I’d screwed up when, even through the tears, I could see that the room was big and bright. Not a closet at all. And it smelled like dirty socks in a heater. I wiped at my eyes and realized I was in a locker room, holy shit.

Thank God no one is in here.

I leaned my forehead against the cold wall and took a big gasping breath, but it came out as a hiccuping sob. I covered my eyes with my hands, giving in to the despair for a second.

“Dani?”

Fuck!I quickly wiped at my eyes before turning around, hoping somehow I didn’t look as bad as I knew I looked.

But when I turned around, my heart sank to my feet. It was Alec.

Oh God.

Not only was I mortified that he was seeing me bawling, but also—dear Lord—he was naked.

Not completely naked—he was wearing black boxer briefs—but his hair was wet and his muscles were everywhere and I could smell his soap or shampoo; he’d obviously just gotten out of the shower, shit shit shit.

“Oh my God,” I said, hating that I was still crying. I could hear the crying in my voice as I muttered, “I’m so sorry, I did not mean to come in here.”

“Dani?” He took quick steps toward me and grabbed my upper arms in his hands, his voice so serious when he asked, “What’s wrong?”