AllFreeNovel
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I stare at my hands, picking at the corner of my nails. “They told me how proud they were every single day. How I was going to be a star, a famous skater, an Olympian.”
Nate’s hand rubs up and down my thigh gently. “That sounds like a lot for a little kid.”
“I felt this crushing pressure, which now as an adult I realize was severe anxiety, but I loved skating so much, and I wanted to be the best for them.” His fingers thread between mine. “I thought they wouldn’t want me anymore if I failed.”
“Oh, Stas.” He sighs.
“Looking at it as an adult, it’s ridiculous because they love me so much. But I was so scared they’d reject me if I didn’t do well for them, and it spiraled into this intense obsession.”
He doesn’t say anything, which I appreciate.
“I couldn’t explain how I was feeling, and I’d become upset and frustrated, so they put me in therapy. For a good reason, I was becoming a nightmare. Dr. Andrews taught me how to communicate my emotions.”
“And the planner?”
“It started as a therapy activity. I felt out of control, which seems unbelievable for such a young kid. I had to sit with my parents on a Sunday night and write out what I had to do that week.”
“Smart.”
“Three categories. What I had to do, what I’d like to do if I had time, and what I was going to do for me that had nothing to do with school and skating.”
I shuffle in my seat, uncomfortable because I’m undoubtedly oversharing at this point, but he looks over and nods, urging me to continue.
“It was a shiny sticker chart thing when I was younger. It made me feel like I could do everything without spiraling, and as time passed and I got older, it morphed into a planner.”
“So d—”
“Please don’t ask me if I know my birth parents,” I interrupt. “I’m perfectly happy with my parents, and I’ve got no desire to go digging up my past.”
“I wasn’t going to ask that, Stassie.” He brings the back of my hand to his mouth, planting a kiss right on my knuckles. “I was going to ask if those ridiculously optimistic quotes you post are something to do with therapy, or if you just like catfishing people into thinking you’re not the most temperamental, bossy, and terrifying woman they may ever meet?”
“Excuse you. I’m not temperamental or bossy.”
Laughing at my shocked face, he kisses my knuckles again. “I feel like the evidence weighs heavily in my favor.” We finally reach my building and he finds a spot away from the normal drop-off area. “Thank you for sharing.”
“Thanks for listening. I know it was…a lot.”
“I can handle a lot. Besides, I like hearing what makes you tick. It’s important for me to be able to be there for my friends, knowing stuff helps, I guess.” My mouth opens to respond, and it’s immediately covered with a large hand. “Do not tell me we’re not friends. We are.”
I nip his palm, causing him to whip his hand away, laughing. “That isn’t what I was going to say.” He pins me with a skeptical glare. “Okay, it wasn’t theonlything I was going to say. I was going to say your friends spent a lot of time convincing me you’re a good person, so whatever you’re doing is working.”
A shit-eating grin spreads across his face. “Did you just admit you think I’m a good person? Did you…complimentme?”
“Oh my God. I’m leaving. Thanks for the ride.”
Nate doesn’t let me leave, instead, he leans over and kisses the life out of me.
Which I let him do. For twenty minutes.
I spend the short ride in the elevator up to my floor trying to regain control of my facial expressions, because I never look this happy after work. Stepping into the apartment, Aaron and Sabrina are both home, bickering about nonsense like normal.
Anxiety spikes in my body when Aaron spots me, immediately looking at me with a strange expression. I drop my bag on the floor and reach for a glass to get a drink. “Hey.”
Ignoring my greeting, he moves toward me and uses his finger to move the fabric covering my neck slightly. It’s that small action that makes me realize it’s slid down.Fuck.
“You need to tell Rothwell to eat a decent meal before letting him near you, Stas.” He scoffs. “It looks cheap as hell. I’m not skating with you at sectionals if you have those.”
“Get off her dick, Ice Princess,” Brin shouts at him from the couch. “Don’t be a little bitch because you’re not getting laid, and Stassie finally gets the hockey hype.”
