Page 117 of Breakaway Hearts

“No, you’re right, I just…wasn’t aware you noticed.”

I could swear he whispers, “I notice everything about you,” but when I ask him to repeat, he says, “You wince like it’s painful. I react similarly when they call me Glass, because it brings me back to junior high. My dad was named Sexiest Man Alive, which was really cool for him, but hell for a teenage boy.”

“How is this your life?” I ask, shaking my head.

“I get it, but also, this has always been my life,” he points out. “I thought my dad had so many friends, then he played the dad on a very popular CW show, so everyone was calling him Pops…that was confusing.”

“Were you jealous?”

“Excited,” he admits. “I was used to having siblings we went out of town to visit, and we always had so much fun that I was like, the more the merrier!”

“Come on, it’s starting.” A woman comes over in a glittery shirt with Callahan across the front, followed by a man and toddler in matching ones. They look ridiculous, but it’s absolutely adorable.

“Izzie’s mom, stepdad, and brother,” Owen shares. “Sav’s parents would be here, but her brother’s playing.”

“That’s nice.”

“We still have Team Dinner there sometimes. Mr. James jokes that his wife is so used to feeding an army that if no one shows up, she’ll stand out in the street and invite everyone who walks by. Southern Hospitality.” He shrugs.

A group of girls each do a routine with jumps and twirls in mid-air, nearly giving me a heart attack.

“You never figure skated?” Owen asks me, probably off my look of amazement at the simplest of moves.

“My dad offered once. Felt bad he’d just put me into hockey without really asking, but while it definitely became a sport I love, it started out as something I did mostly to hang out with him. Figure skating would have defeated the purpose.”

“Iz was like that too. Played hockey so she could hang out with Noah. Didn’t start figure skating until maybe a year ago. This is her first competition, now she’s not doing the hockey ones.”

“You sound sad.”

“They were short on coaches, so Noah joined, then we’d help him out for tournaments and stuff if we were missing community service hours or whatever. I’ve only gone once this year, but it wasn’t the same without Iz.”

I shake my head and hold back a sigh, because Owen is nothing like I’d pegged him, like I want him to be. Only that’s not true. I want all of them to be as good and kind and swoonworthy as the ones from books written by women, but if they’re not…if they’re like my high school team, I rather they not pretend to be anything different.

“Am I losing points again?” Owen sighs in defeat.

“Not sure you had that many to begin with.”

He’s about to add more, maybe defend himself, but the announcer says, “Isabelle Callahan,” and I almost wish I’d brought ear plugs as the rather large group of people around me cheers like she just single-handedly won the Stanley Cup.

She’s good. Not Olympics good, but she’s determined, and her smile says she absolutely loves being out there.

I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but when she finishes her routine, they cheer even louder, with a standing ovation, whoops, and it feels like every eye in the rink is on us.

“It’s worse when Noah and Steele are here,” Owen whispers, his lips brushing my ear, breath tickling my neck.

They announce the winners not long after and Izzie takes fourth place, which gives a bouquet instead of a medal. She beams over at our group, and a lot of the big, strong, hockey players are looking down at her with pride.

Owen takes my hand to lead me through the crowd when it’s over, and while part of me wants to stop him, it feels nice, and I tell myself it’s just so I don’t get lost in the crowd.

I let go as soon as we reach our destination, and it isn’t long before the rest of Izzie’s supporters find us. They all chat with Owen while I pretend to be engrossed with the wall of team pictures. I’m pretty sure I find Izzie from a few years ago, with Noah as assistant coach. I’ve just tracked down a pre-teen ‘Noah C.’ when Izzie comes out and disappears in a sea of hugs.

“Iz, I’d like you to meet my friend, Madison.” Owen introduces us after she’s been through most of them. “Mads, this is Izzie.”

“You were amazing out there,” I tell her.

“I wasn’t terrible,” she downplays it.

“You were the epitome of beauty and grace,” Owen argues.