AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Blake…” It’s all I can manage, my voice foreign in the aftermath of the storm.
He doesn’t respond. He just stands there, reeling like he’s taken a hit on the ice that he didn’t see coming. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, one hand on the mahogany table to steady himself.
“Blake, sit down,” his father beams.
He towers over the table, looking down at the scattered remains of what was supposed to be a congenial dinner, not looking like the man who has it all but one who is broken. A pang of sympathy squeezes my chest.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, though I’m unsure who he is apologizing to.
He moves past me in a rush, leaving my mind spinning with questions and the weight of his father’s disdain.
“Blake, please.” Mrs. Morton reaches out, her hand poised in the air as her words linger like a silent plea.
He shakes his head. “I can’t do this right now, Mom…” His voice cracks, a fissure through the confident mask he always wears.
Her eyes glisten. She stands, too, smoothing her dress.
“Let him go,” his father says. His voice sounds tired, along with a hint of regret. But that makes zero sense. He created this mess with his unwillingness to adhere to his son’s wishes.
Blake doesn’t look back as he strides for the door, determination in each step. I hesitate, torn between the wreckage and following Blake. Really, though, what choice do I have?
“Thanks for having me.” I don’t wait for their response as I rush to the hallway. Once I’m within earshot, I yell, “Blake, wait up!”
CHAPTEREIGHT
AMANDA
Blake stops so suddenlythat I can’t stop my forward momentum. My hands brace to stop myself, but not before I collide with his broad back. His muscles tense beneath his shirt. My breath catches as the air charges with more than the tension he carries.
“Blake?” My voice is thick, laced with confusion and the ache to understand. “What happened back there?”
His jaw clenches as the silence stretches taut between us. “Not here.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go outside.” There’s steel in his tone, but my body doesn’t seem to get the memo that now isn’t a good time. It sparked to life when his hand brushed mine as he turned to leave. I tamp down that feeling because what the fuck? If tonight proved anything, it’s that I don’t belong in this environment—the one where fathers belittle their children’s dreams and demand them to conform to their wishes.
It turns out Los Angeles billionaires aren’t much different from Boston’s.
Outside, the night wraps around us and cloaks us in darkness. Underneath the harsh glare of the porch light, our shadows mingle on the pavement, a dance of dark and light.
“Talk to me.” My words are barely above a whisper, mingling with the rustle of leaves in the wind.
“Later.” He says it like a promise or maybe a warning. His hands land on his hips as he paces back and forth, cursing.
The frigid chill of the wind gnaws at my bones, but it’s the tension in Blake’s shoulders making me shiver. We stand under a sky speckled with indifferent stars, the world reduced to the space between us.
“Blake…” I start, my voice a quiet plea against the silence.
He stops pacing and turns to me, the moonlight catching the turmoil in his blue eyes. “Amanda, you don’t understand?—”
“Then make me.” It’s a challenge, a call for the truth. I don’t understand why his family would push him into a field he has zero interest in. How effectively will he work for his dad when his heart is on the ice?
Blake runs his fingers through his hair, a mess of dark waves, and leans against the cold stone façade. “Dad’s got this plan. Thinks I’m going to hang up my skates and fall in line.”
“Into the family business?” My heart sinks for him. I’m sure that’s every billionaire parent’s dream—to have their child follow suit—but Blake is lightning on the ice. He’s meant to streak across ice fields, not get trapped in a boardroom.
“Exactly.” The word is bitter as if it’s poison on his tongue. “Tonight was meant for me to face reality.”
