Page 85 of Melt the Ice

“LUCAS THEODORE MONROE!” She screeches, “You get your ass back here right now.”

I start to respond, but she cuts me off. “No, you’re not even supposed to be driving. I’ll come get you.”

I look up to see Sammy standing on the other side of the glass. He nods in acknowledgement before walking toward the tunnels. Seems like I’m not the only one trying to outrun demons today. “Lettie, I’m okay. Sammy’s here, I’ll have him drop me off.”

She’s silent for a second, and I can picture the way she’s biting down on her lip, debating on whether or not she’s going to let that slide. “I needed to blow off some steam. I didn’t want to wake you up. This was the healthiest way I know how to deal with things.”

She blows out a raspberry before giving in. “Okay. I was just worried when I woke up, and you were gone.”

Damn it, I should have left her a note or something. A text, even, what the hell was I thinking? You weren’t. Obviously. “Sorry, pretty girl. I didn’t mean to. That’s on me, I should have let you know.”

“I love you,” she whispers. “Are you okay?”

I chuckle. It’s been such a journey getting this version of her back. But damn, I love that she’s more and more herself every day. “I’m good. Thank you for checking on me. I love you, too.”

“You coming back anytime soon?”

I push up, steadying myself, before I’m skating off the ice. “Let me find Sammy. I’ll figure it out. But I’m really fine to drive.”

“Lucas…” She warns.

Pushing through the door to the locker room, the music coming from the gym is deafening. “Holy shit. Um…” I say into the phone as I stare through the window of the gym door. Sammy is bench pressing a ridiculous amount of weight with no spot. “Lettie, I gotta go. I’ll keep you updated, but I have to get my skates off before someone drops a loaded barbell on his chest.”

I can practically hear her eyes roll, “You two and your ridiculous coping mechanisms. Tell him I said hi.”

I love that she loves my friends, but more so, I love the friendship they have. They feed off each other in a way that rivals how the team does. I quickly unlace my skates, tossing them to the side before I tear the door open. Pantera assaults my ears the second I’m through the doors.

His grunts are barely audible over the heavy drum beat. “The hell are you doing?” I ask, as I look at him over the bar. He sighs, pushing up and forcefully re-racking the weight.

He sits, turning until he’s facing me. “I can’t stand that guy.”

My brows furrow. There’s no one else here. At least not that I saw, he throws his hands in the air before standing up. “Not the time or place. Come on.”

He swipes the towel from the bench, heading toward the locker room. “Can you take me home? Lettie’s already pissed I drove here.”

I call behind him. Turning to look at me over his shoulder, he smiles. “Mi hermana tiene razón en estar enfadada.”⁠*

“I hate it when you two do that.” And they do it all the time, speak in Spanish when they know the rest of us can’t understand. They do it on purpose, the conspiring pair they are.

His deep chuckle rumbles low in his throat. “Come on, little buddy, let’s get you to your keeper.”

This asshole.

* My sister is right to be angry

37

scarlett

Two months later

Abby and I tracked down Rory, Lucas’s cousin. She was, ironically, in a motel in Tampa. Her rose gold hair took both of us by surprise, but then she smirked, and it was like looking at the female version of Lucas.

Telling her she had a cousin was more emotional than we anticipated; turns out she lost her mom too, and thought she was alone. But then, we got to tell her she had a half-brother, and she about lost it.

It didn’t take much to convince her to come to a game with us. It’s fan favorite night, and while I have my “Goldie’s Girl” jersey, we have different plans for tonight. Hannah told us a few weeks ago that Lucas has never had people he knew show up in his jersey. So I bought five. One for Hannah and Abby, one for me, and one for Rory and Jackson.

It’s been tumultuous on that front. Lucas got hit from all angles in what felt like a matter of moments. And his dad being alive all these years was the straw that broke him completely, but it’s also the brick that laid the foundation to true healing. They go to therapy together once a week, and while he’s come to accept it, I don’t think he’s fully forgiven him yet. Baby steps. Jackson has yet to miss a home game. He still manages the rehab center, while I’ve fully taken over the ranch's daily operations.