Page 94 of Small Town, Big Storm

I gasp, but he doesn’t stop talking.

“And two ribs.Along with dislocating my shoulder and breaking my nose.I fought back”—a breath—“but too late.It was like he was possessed and all I could do was try to hold on until he lost interest in me.”A sharp, pained laugh.“That wasn’t until I was almost unconscious.”

“Storm,” I whisper, my eyes welling up, tears spilling over, dripping down my cheeks.

“When I woke up, he was gone and I could barely move.”

My chest hitches.

“I called my agent,” he says, “and Allie came and got me.God, we were both so young, so inexperienced.We didn’t know what we were doing so we went to my coach at the college, even though summer wasn’t over and the school was closed for break.He brought me to see the team’s doctor, who patched me up, then gave me a place to live, along with the space to heal up.”A shake of his head, his eyes a hundred miles away, his mind lost in the past.“He was thrilled when I got called up to the Sierra, even though that meant leaving him in the middle of my first season on his roster.”

“You played more than half that season,” I murmur.

His eyes flash back to the present.“You know that?”

My throat works.“I followed your career pretty closely.”

“But you don’t even like hockey,” he whispers.

“But I likedyou,” I say, gently settling my hand on his chest, wondering if those ribs his father broke still bothered him.“Enough that I was really hurt when I went to the bathroom and came back to find you gone.”

His mouth parts on a rush of air.“What?”

“You were sleeping,” I say softly.“I had to go to the bathroom and it was getting late, so I knew we needed to go home soon anyway.But I didn’t want to wake you just yet, didn’t want the night to end.”I close my eyes for a moment, open them.“So, I figured I’d just run over and use the bathroom then I’d find a creative way to wake you up.”

His lungs hitch beneath my palm.

“But when I came back, you were gone.”My voice drops.“And the next day you were gone.And then I found out about Holly and you didn’t respond and…” I trail off because we both know the rest of the story.

“Fuck,” he whispers.Then he spins on his heel, his hands coming up to the sides of his head, gripping his hair so tightly that for one horrible second, I worry he’ll tear it from the roots.“Fuck!”he shouts, punching out, his fist cracking into a tree trunk with a sickeningthunk.“Fuck!”he shouts again, hitting the tree a second time before he slumps forward and rests his forehead against the trunk.“Fuck,” he says again, but it’s a whisper now.

I move behind him, gently settle my hand on his back.

He startles at the contact but doesn’t pull away.

And we stand there like that for a long moment.

Then I find myself saying, “I thought there was ice cream?”

He jerks, his head whipping around, those shadowed gray eyes on me.

Then he does the best thing ever?—

He laughs.

Twenty-Five

Storm

“So much better than salads,”she says softly, scraping the bottom of the ice cream container.

“But not better thanbubblegumice cream,” I tease.

“No?”She holds up the spoon, loaded with a bite of rocky road.“Why don’t you let your taste buds decide?”

My mouth twitches, but I shake my head.“I got that for you, Poppyseed.”

Gentle green eyes.“Maybe, but now I’m sharing with you.”Her lips kick up at the edges.“Or maybe I’m trying to convert you so that you side with me over Holly and we get more rocky road on the horizon.”