Meet Your Match (Kings of the Ice, #1)(82)

Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and terrified.

“Like I am compelled by you, by everything that you are, by how you have annihilated whatever version of my life existed before you?”

“Don’t,” she whispered, but I couldn’t stop now.

I closed the last of the distance between us, grabbing her hand and forcing it to my chest. “Do you feel me holding on tighter every time you’re in my arms? Do you feel time slipping away too fast when we’re together?” My jaw tightened with restraint against the emotion strangling my throat. “Do you feel my heart fucking breaking at the thought of losing you? Is that what you feel, Maven?”

Her chin wobbled, two silent tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Look at me,” I begged, and when she did, I swore the world stopped spinning, waiting for us to give it the cue that we were ready again. “Tell me what you feel.”

Her eyelids fluttered, cheeks glistening under the soft light, but her gaze didn’t waver.

“Like I want to believe you,” she admitted softly.

Hope flittered through my ribcage.

“And like I’d end up broken if I actually did.”

Her words slammed into me, knocking my breath from my chest like a hard check against the boards.

This wasn’t her talking. I knew it like I knew every play in the Osprey’s playbook. This was the remnants of the one who came before me, the one who scarred her, who made her feel like she couldn’t trust another man.

Like she couldn’t trust herself.

I opened my mouth, but closed it again, shaking my head. I didn’t say anything.

What else could I say?

“I have to go.” Her voice trembled with the words, more tears searing her cheeks as she tore her gaze from mine. She brushed past me and ripped the door open, sliding through it and tugging it shut behind her before I could so much as blink.

She left.

And I had no choice but to let her.





Break Shit



Maven



Four days before Christmas, the Ospreys had their last home game before the holiday. It was going to be my last game with full access, my last assignment before everything wrapped up. Reya and Camilla were ready for me to tackle what came next, and the Osprey’s GM didn’t want any distractions for the team as they headed into the second half of the season and, hopefully, toward playoffs.

This was it. We’d had our fun, and now, it was time for life to go back to normal.

I should have been with Vince, but instead, I was curled up in the fetal position on my couch with my head in my best friend’s lap.

It had been all I could do to show up for the morning skate, to post a few clips of content and then duck out before I broke down in front of the entire team. When Coach McCabe had asked if I was okay, I’d nearly lost it.

The worst part was that Vince looked just as miserable as I did.

And that was my fault.

I hadn’t just left his condo after that night we spent with his family. I’d left the building, too. I’d packed my belongings and moved back home.

And I’d barely seen Vince since then.

The only content I posted was of him at the rink, where I felt like I could take some photos and videos and then quickly get away.

And any time I did see him, I lost the ability to breathe.

I was so sick, my stomach in dreadful knots, lungs operating at low capacity as if I had a box of bricks on my chest. From the outside in, it all seemed so simple — Vince had caught feelings, and I knew I had, too. All I had to do was tell him that I felt the same and we could be together.

But I couldn’t do it.

It was like trying to convince myself to jump out of an airplane when I had a gut feeling my parachute wouldn’t work. It was like someone else telling me it’s fine to take a step, but I’m blindfolded, and when I hover my foot, I’m just certain there’s a cliff there, and that I’ll tumble off it and to my death.

I was frozen in place, fright-stricken, trying to survive by just staying still.

“I hate seeing you this way,” Livia said softly, but I jerked as if she’d screamed. We’d been silent for so long, her playing with my hair while I cried quietly.

“I know.”

“You love him, too.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, and how more tears found their way out, I’d never know. I couldn’t believe how much I’d cried. It had to be a Guinness World Record by now. My eyes were so swollen I was surprised I could even see at all.

“You do,” Livia repeated, smoothing a hand over my hair. “Babe, why are you torturing yourself?”

“You know why.”

She sighed. “Okay, yes, I do, but…” She paused like she was gathering her thoughts. “If there was ever a time to move forward, or a person to move forward with — is this not it?”

“Livia, James broke me,” I said, pushing up so I could look her in the eyes. I hated how my voice trembled. “But Vince? He… he could kill me.”

“Or he could bring you back to life.”

I rolled my lips together, tasting the salty tears there.

“You’re scared of being hurt again,” she said, my face warping as she did. “And that’s okay, that’s normal,” she assured me, covering my hand with hers. “And truthfully, I cannot promise you that it won’t happen. No one can, not even Vince. That’s what’s so fucked up about relationships, about love. We give ourselves, we trust, and then we get hurt. We wonder why we ever did that, we hate everyone for a while, until… we don’t. Until we meet someone, and we laugh again, and we feel again, and we start to wonder if we can fall in love again. So we do.” She laughed a little. “And then, they fuck us over or we fuck them over and we’re right back to square one.”