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My blood runs cold. He was so close to me, and I didn’t even realize it.
“Sorry, I didn’t say anything.” He shrugs. “I guess I got scared you’d run or something because of what happened at the party, so I froze.”
“It’s fine, Matt.” I fidget with my pen, tapping it on my knee while I wait for him to say something. He stares at me with a calculating look as if trying to memorize my face.
“I see you’re still forever the writer,” he says finally, nodding toward my journal.
“I am,” I reply tightly. I point to his equipment bag. “And I see you’re still killing it in the ice rink.”
His grin is a bit too smug. “First line, of course. Coach recruited me personally at the end of last semester where I was racking up the stats at U Dub.” Then his voice drops lower. “I’m untouchable at this school.”
Chills rake over my skin as I stare into his cold eyes. The simple statement feels like a threat, but Matt covers it with another cocky smirk. “Though I do spend a lot of time in the sin bin.”
“You always were good at bullying people,” I quip, rolling my eyes.
Matt ignores my jab, craning his neck to look at my notes.
I slam the book closed, glaring at him. “What do you want, Matt?”
His expression turns serious. “I need to apologize for...everything.”
I grimace. “You really don’t have to.” I swallow the unwanted feelings of anger and betrayal that float to the top of my consciousness. “It’s been more than a year, and I’m over it.”
Matt raises his eyebrows, his gaze steady. “We were best friends for eight years and lovers for another two, and you’re just over it?” His hand tightens into a white-knuckled fist.
I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about this with you.” I start to stand, but he reaches for my arm, grabbing my wrist. His touch burns like acid, and I pull away. “You ripped out my fucking heart, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I was hurt, but then other shit happened, and it turns out the world didn’t revolve around you and what we had. So, yes, I got over it. End. Of. Story.”
He narrows his eyes as I speak but doesn’t interrupt.
“Are you looking for forgiveness? Fine. I forgive you. But I’m not going to forget it. We’re not friends anymore, and I don’t think we ever will be again.”
Matt’s quiet for a moment while I stare down at him, my chest heaving like I’ve just run a marathon. Then he smiles. He fucking smiles.
“Did you just cuss?” he asks, grinning more broadly.
“That’s what you took from what I just said?”
He shrugs. “I’ll take your forgiveness in whatever form you’ll give it. And we’ll be friends again, maybe more. Just you wait.” He stands and gives me his signature wink again.
The chills resurface as I watch him saunter away.
LINCOLN
I watch Matt the Prick walk away from Charlie with barely checked rage slithering through my veins.
I don’t get the guy’s appeal—never have.
“Stupid hockey players,” I seethe as I turn on my heel and stalk back across the grass.
The weather is, dare I say, perfect—crisp and clear but not too cold.
I hate it.
I can’t wait for the gloomy mornings and rainy afternoons. Sunny days remind me of my mom, so they’re always tainted with resentment. She loved the sun and spent every second she could basking in its light. In the summer, we went to the beach (albeit a rocky Washington beach), and if the skies cleared on winter days, she’d walk the path along the harbor, no matter how cold it was.
But now, instead of my mom, the sun just reminds me ofher.And I don’t want to think of her all the damn time.
Sunshine.
