Page 106 of Ice Queen

My lips are going to be bloody by the time Markus makes it in here. The bottom lip rolls against my teeth as I pace the length of the room. When I don’t answer, he doesn’t ask again. Though I feel his eyes as they follow me back and forth. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to lose my shit, but I don’t care.

“Abby, I’m fine.” Markus’ voice echoes down the hall. Suddenly, my anger is replaced with nerves. Hannah was right, this is the biggest game of his life, and I’m about to derail it.

“Will you just shut up for two seconds?” Abby hisses as the door opens.

“No. I need to be with my team. I need–” His eyes finally land on me, and he stops dead in his tracks.

His stick and gloves fall to the floor, and he’s in front of me in an instant. His hands cup my cheeks, thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t even know was there. I lean into him, soaking in this moment of tenderness, because I know in about ten seconds, it’s going to be gone.

“Kait, what's wrong?” He rushes out.

I take a deep breath, my eyes fluttering closed as I try to figure out how to keep him from running out of this room. When I open my eyes, I send him a silent plea, one he responds to with a single nod.

“Your coach is my ex,” I say. No fluff, no beating around the bush. Just to the point.

His hands fall from my face just like I knew they would. “Run that by me again…” he says.

I reach out for his hand, lacing our fingers together. “Your coach.” I squeeze his fingers. “Is my ex.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” He shakes out of my hold, bending to pick up his stick and gloves, but I run around him to stand in front of the door.

“No, Markus.”

His jaw works over and over, eyes blazing.

“He’s taken enough from me, and if he’s the one who’s been making your life hell, he’s taken enough from you, too. He can’t have this, he can’t have this game, and he can’t have us.”

He doesn’t move, just stares. “You’re telling me that the asshole who made your life a living hell, to the point that you had to run away for your own safety, might I add, is the very same asshole who’s tried to make my life hell the past year?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to kill him,” he says, moving toward me, or the door rather.

I hold my hands up, standing firm in my position. “No.”

“No?” His brows hike.

I shake my head. “No. You’re going to go out there and pretend nothing is wrong.”

“Kaitlyn, I can’t do that. Are you serious? He tried to hurt you. He tried to make me look like a liability to my team,” he yells indignantly.

“I know,” I whisper. “But I need you to let me handle this. I need you to go back out there and pretend you don’t know a damn thing. He can’t hurt me if he’s on the ice with you.”

“Yeah, but he can look at you.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Markus,” I beg. “Go play. Win. I just needed you to know. I couldn’t have sat there and pretended everything was okay. You would have sensed something was off, and then you’d be more focused on me than the game.”

He sighs, shoulders dropping from his ears.

“I know you want to go all caveman, and I love you for it.” A sharp intake of air passes through his lips, his eyes screwing shut like it pains him not to say it back, but he doesn’t interrupt me.

“I don’t need to be saved, Markus,” I whisper. Because I don’t. I don’t have a plan yet. But I will.

“But you said your ex's name was Wyatt,” he finally says.

“James Wyatt Sterling.”

“Has he ever even played hockey?” Markus’ annoyed grunt makes me smile.