Page 65 of Melt the Ice

The world could be burning to ash around me, and as long as she was here, I’d see nothing but her. Her laugh is novacaine, numbing me to the pain of life that exists outside of her. “I could really go for a grilled cheese,” I whisper into her ear.

Her head tilts back, a smile gracing her face as she nods. “Me too.”

27

scarlett

“As you wish.” He winks, causing me to scrunch up my nose before huffing out a laugh.

One of Nana’s favorite movies was The Princess Bride, and I lost count of how many times she made us watch it. I hated it. Westly was too whipped. Although I kind of get the obsession now, if my feelings for the man behind me are any indication.

We skate a few more laps around the ice before he’s pulling me off with him. “Come on, time to go feed my girl.”

The drive home is silent, but he holds my hand, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb the entire time.

“Make yourself at home, let me shower really quick.” He says once we get to his house.

I nod, pulling out a bar stool and drumming my fingers against the counter. Some would think it’s me being impatient, but it’s really my way of getting rid of nervous energy. I’m one of those people that the fidget toys were made for. Literally the queen of restless leg syndrome.

He’s not gone for long, but when he returns, I fight the urge to strip and offer myself to him, instead of indulging in cheesy goodness. He’s in grey sweatpants that could be painted on him and a black long-sleeved Hawks shirt. My mouth immediately goes dry the closer he gets. “I’m going to need to see you in this more often,” I mumble.

He laughs, “You can see me in whatever you want, Lettie. I’ll be your personal Ken doll.”

A warm sensation spreads through me, starting in my stomach and ending somewhere around my heart. Here’s this man who just lost his mom, yet he’s here, offering to let me dress him up however I please, and for what? Because he knows it makes me happy. “You’re too good to me, you know?”

He scoffs as he pulls out all the ingredients, “There’s no such thing as ‘too good to you.’” He places his palms on top of the island as his eyes hold me captive. “I’d give you everything. All you have to do is ask.”

I know that, which is why I feel so strongly that I need to be the one to protect him. He needs someone to protect him for once in his life. To operate with his best interest at heart instead of their own. I don’t get to think much more before he starts to sing.

“Golden bread and melting cheese, a little bit of comfort, please.” His hips sway before he looks over his shoulder at me. My body feels light as I watch him, carefree in a way that only makes sense when we’re together.

He rolls his upper body, turning his head to look over his other shoulder. "Sizzle in the pan, delicious smell in the air, nothing else quite compares.” I hide my mouth behind the back of my hand, hoping to keep from interrupting his song and dance.

I fail as a laugh falls from my lips, the sound echoing through the kitchen like it’s the very noise it’s been waiting for all these years. “Grilled cheese, my favorite grilled cheese. Melty, gooey, perfect tease.” He sings as I bob my head along to his ridiculous beat.

“Take a bite, the world's at ease, nothing beats a grilled cheese.” He flips the sandwich in the pan, once more, repeating the song from the top. When he finally plates the cheesy goodness and slides them across the island, he takes a bow as I give him a standing ovation.

“Thank you for coming to tonight’s sing-along. I take payment in friendship and compliments.”

I snort as he grabs two waters and slides onto the barstool next to me.

“Bravo, Mr. Monroe!” I say as I tap his water bottle with my own. “That was brilliant. If your hockey career doesn’t pan out, you could definitely headline a show at Madison Square Garden.”

It feels like the air has changed, brighter somehow now that he’s smiling at me. “You’re my favorite, Lettie Girl.” He whispers in reverence.

I kiss his cheek before we dive into our food. When we’re about halfway done, he hums like he just remembered something. “Do you know anything about a Thorne contract?”

I can’t pinpoint why I know that name, but something heavy settles in my gut, and I push my half-eaten sandwich away. “No, but I’ve heard the name. Why?”

He wipes his hands on a napkin before turning his body toward mine. “I found something at the bottom of a box. It said, “Midland, TX 1997. Thorne contract failure.”

“Can I see it?” He nods. But before he can get up, I wrap my hand around his. “Better idea, want to take a trip to the field?”

I feel the heat creep up my cheeks. We haven’t been there together since I’ve been back, and I’ve been dying to go with him. Even if there’s nothing there this time of year. His eyes crinkle at the corner as he brings his water to his lips, taking a large drink before catching a stray drop with his tongue. “I’d love nothing more.”

He clears our plates, washing them before placing them in the drying rack, and when he turns to me, he goes still. His eyes trail over me, not in hunger, but in quiet appreciation. His hand finds my waist, his grip tightening as he slowly steps in closer. The warmth of his forehead rests against my shoulder, “Thank you,” he mumbles under his breath. “For showing up for me today. I love you, Lettie Girl.”

His words are soft, like he wants me to feel how much he loves me, not because of how I look, or what I can do for him, but for letting my walls down enough for him to see all of me. And in return, he lets me see all of him. A love without expectations, without boundaries. One that meets me where I’m at, and loves me through my pain, not despite it.