Page 63 of Rebel Moon

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You and Mads. Circling around each other in some kind of toxic dance. A dance that’s going to bring down this band if you’re not careful.”

“I don’t know why you think you get a say in anything to do with my life,” I said to Rhett. “But the truth is—I know how I feel, and I’ve told her so. Whatever toxicity you think is happening is not because I didn’t ask her to be my dance partner, so back off.”

Rhett held up his hands. “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“We’re all talking about everyone’s business but our own,” Beck said. “Maybe we take care of the heat in our own kitchens instead of worrying about anyone else’s.”

I rose to my feet. “I’m calling it a night. Probably should ice my ankle.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Jack said. “It’s still snowing and pretty slippery.”

“Suit yourself,” I said.

We said our goodnights and headed out to a winter wonderland.

Snowfall had continued all day and was still dropping soft and steady and straight, no wind to it. It brought that hush to the world, everything quiet, a sense that you might be completely alone.

Jack fell into step beside me, hands jammed in his coat pockets. “How you feeling? Want to get a little air before we turn in?”

“Yeah, sure.” I didn’t really want to go back to my lonely cabin.

We headed down the low path toward the pond, which sat at the bottom of the meadow, frozen hard and dusted white. It looked different at night. Just a flat pale sheet under falling snow, with strings of twinkling white lights.

We stopped at the edge of the pond. Jack picked up a little chunk of ice and skipped it out across the frozen surface. It went skittering off into the dark.

“You want to talk about it?” Jack asked.

“I do and I don’t. It hurts to say it all out loud.”

“Ivy says it makes whatever’s ailing you better if you talk about it.”

I was quiet for a moment, listening for cracks in the ice but there weren’t any. “She’s shutting me out. Last night I told her I wanted … her. Yeah, I told her that I had strong feelings for her and I didn’t want it to end once we got back to Nashville. And she went real quiet like she does. That flatness in her eyes, you know? That look that says—don’t come anywhere near me.”

“Oh yeah, I know what the Mads’ Freeze looks like. That’s what I call it.”

“Sounds like an ice cream drink,” I said.

“Most expensive one on the menu.”

“That’s the truth,” I said. “This morning she won’t even open the door more than a crack. I don’t think she even has a migraine. She just doesn’t want to be around me.”

“Okay,” Jack said. Like it made sense to him. Which somehow made it worse.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “Everything was good. Better than good. We were talking until like two in the morning while the rest of you were out. It was perfect. The second I told her how I felt, she ran like I’d pulled a gun on her. What do I do with that?”

Jack was quiet a while. Skipped another chunk of ice. “Ivy knows Madeleine better than I do, but I know her well enough to know what’s going on. She’s scared. She’s built a life for herself, but it’s cost her. I don’t know that she sees how much, actually. This drive she has—it’s all to make sure she doesn’t end up back where she started. She’s hard because of it. And you’ve broken the shell, and it must scare her to death. You’re the first thing in a long time she can’t afford to lose, and she doesn’t like the loss of control. So she’s retreating.”

I looked out at that frozen pond a long while. “I’d have thought it would be me that wanted to run.”

“That’s because you’re delusional.”

“What?”

“You think you’re this tough guy—this outlaw cowboy—but that’s not who you are at all. You’re an artist, my friend. Sensitive, perceptive, curious, principled. None of that fits how you’ve come to think of yourself, but I’m here to tell you that’s wrong. I know who you are down deep.”

“Do you know her real name’s Mindy?” I asked.