Page 24 of Melt the Ice

It’s one of the kinds that has the perfect breading-to-cheese ratio, and it stretches like a spider web as I pull it away from my lips. He throws a knowing wink in my direction before sitting on the couch between Hannah and Abby.

Minutes pass before Reed leans over and asks, “Do you know what you just got yourself into?”

I look at him through the corner of my eye, shaking my head as I finish my bite. “Nope.”

His soft chuckle pulls Lucas's attention. Reed leans in closer, whispering so only I can hear him. “Better get used to us, 'cause I don’t think he’s letting you leave. Plus, you’ve got Hannah on your side, meaning Abby won’t be far behind. It’s difficult to say no to any of them by themselves. Put the three of them together, it’s damn near impossible.”

I swallow hard, my instincts yelling that there’s always a catch, that their friendship would be transactional. Just like all my other “friendships” were.

I tune out the chatter of the room. Sammy gestures wildly, telling some story, but I hear nothing. Well, not until they all turn to look at me. “What?” I ask, twirling the end of my braid.

“What’s your story?” Abby asks, she leans back against Lucas. He shifts so she’s leaning on the outside of his arm, not his chest, a move that makes butterflies tickle my rib cage. Even if the move wasn’t intentionally made for my benefit.

My arms cross over my chest, and I can feel the bricks falling back into place, creating a protective wall that keeps me safely hidden from their questions. “Not much to tell.” I clip, hoping they’ll move on.

They don’t, and Hannah quickly jumps in. “Listen, it can’t be any worse than your dad telling you you’ll never be good enough while he’s on his literal deathbed.”

Her husband sits up straighter in his spot in a chair across the coffee table from her. “Come on, Kitten. You know that’s not true.”

Her eyes shine, filled with fresh tears, as she smiles at him. I turn my focus to Lucas and find him already looking at me.

Dangerous territory, Scarlett.

There are too many eyes, I feel like I’m under a microscope. My chest goes tight, like I’m sixteen again and every feeling is a liability I can’t afford. “I was promised food, not an interrogation.” My nails dig into my arms. “Think I’ll head home now.”

Lucas’s eyes bulge before he’s off the couch so fast, Abby falls into Hannah. “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, just… stay. Please.” His eyes plead with mine. When he sees I have no intention of changing my mind, his shoulders drop. “It’s dark. Can I at least walk you home?”

I take a step toward him, now angry that he’s put me in a position that makes me look like a defiant asshole. “I can take care of myself.”

I don’t know how long we stand there, locked in a battle of wills, before a loud, slow clap pulls us from our stare off. We both turn to see Abby with an unamused look on her face. “As fun as it is to stand here in all this… tension,”

I scoff as I take a step away from him, my pulse racing so fast I’m sure they can see it from Mars. “There’s no tension,” I grind out, heat creeping up my cheeks. I hate that I don’t hate that insinuation. “You need your eyes checked.”

As soon as I pull the door open, Lucas rasps, “Please.”

I freeze, turning to look at him over my shoulder, but only for a second.

I need quiet, away from inquiring minds. I hate attention on a good day, but when they asked about my life, especially while I’m in the middle of trying to figure it out myself, I felt like a cornered animal. Overwhelmed in a way that had their voices raising an octave and melding together. A dangerous mix that flips the switch, heating my blood to a slow boil, increasing with every passing second until I erupt, skin itching, teeth clenching, seconds away from saying something I’d regret.

So I do what I do best, let the words of my father wash over me. Having emotions makes you weak. Anger, sadness, fear, lock it down. The world can’t hurt you if you don’t show them your cards. And now more than ever, I hate that I’m what he made me.

Because it was all a bald-faced lie. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human, gives you the strength to feel and do what’s right for you. But he didn’t want that. He knew I’d be too much for him to control if he didn’t break me first. If he didn’t convince me that all the parts of myself I loved most were what was going to hold me back in life. My life would have looked so different if I were brave enough to stay true to myself. But, I guess it’s time to try.

I take a slow breath, put one foot in front of the other, letting the truth settle into my bones. The weight of it isn’t crushing, it’s clarifying. For the first time in a long time, even though I’m running, I feel a flicker of something I thought was long gone. Possibility.

Sure, the past won't vanish, but here, maybe even with this group of Lucas’s friends, I feel like maybe I can move forward without apologizing for who I am. Or maybe, who I’m not.

Maybe that’s enough to start.

10

lucas

The hollow thunk of our feet hitting the rubber stairs mixed with our heavy breathing fills the otherwise silent gym. “I don’t understand why we’re doing this,” Sammy whines from my left as we climb the stairmaster in full hockey gear.

There are a few reasons. First and foremost, it’s good cardio.

The second is that Hannah wants to hang a bunch of ridiculous pictures on the glass for the Wilder Foundation Family night that’s happening in the next few months. And if I told him that, he would have come in here all GQ. I mean, the guy once came to a team building sleepover wearing silk pajamas. Who even owns those? Regardless, that’s the opposite of what Hannah wants. So at some point, Abby’s going to sneak in here and catch this on camera. But instead of telling him any of that, I go with my default response, jokes. “Because I want the next woman who grabs my ass to tell me it’s round and firm like a bowling ball.”