Page 107 of Icebound

I settle onto the wooden stool. Ever since Gwen and I stumbled into this place, Blue Line Brews has become our go-to spot to watch Guardian's games when I can’t be there in person, which is what happened today since I had an exam.

The old-time bar has five exits, wide open picnic tables, and an array of nonalcoholic beers, so I can actually relax. I’ve been wanting to bring Rhode here, but he’s been busy training, which is good.

Every kiss from him is charting a pathway to my heart, and it’s scaring me how attached I’m growing.

I’ve been spending every hour cramming for finals that I may as well live in the library. On top of that, I still have to finish my speech for The Peaceful Mind Project, which I’m dreading. Honestly, just thinking about standing up there, trying to sound intelligent and inspiring, has me chewing my nails.

On the screen, Rhode drops down into butterfly, making another save. I clap my hands, whooping. “Hell yeah, that’s my man!”

Gwen leans over my shoulder, sipping her grass-green beer that’s a leftover flavor from St. Patrick’s Day. She’s always trying random things to be different, but it must not have sold very well since St. Paddy’s Day was weeks ago.

“So, how have things been going with you two?” she asks. “I feel like you’ve turned into his biggest fan.”

I’ve been trying to cover my feelings with jokes or sarcastic comments, but there’s one thing I realized after tossing in bed all night since Rhode wasn’t there—I’m falling hopelessly in love with Rhode Tremblay.

It’s horrible, really, but I can’t stop. All these little moments have piled up. Every smile, every late-night phone call, every time he won or lost a game and wanted to talk with me, each hug, the laughter, all the times he didn’t walk away when I pushed.

Love is made with little moments, and we have enough to build a castle.

I’m not going to have some deep over-the-top confession in the middle of a brewery that smells like malty hops, so I make a flippant comment. “Oh, you know, I’m completely in love with him, and there’s nothing I can do about it, so that’s great.”

Gwen splutters out her green beer. A droplet lands on her cashmere sweater. “I’m sorry, what? You’re joking, right? I can’t tell. Or are you actually in love with him? Wait…” She peers closer, and her smile turns sympathetic. “Oh no, you are in love with him. It’s all over your face.”

“Yeah, I know.” I take a swig of my alcohol-free beer. It tastes like oats, but it’s what Rhode always drinks, so I’m giving it a shot. “It was naive to think I wouldn’t fall for him. How could I not, Gwen? He’s this sweet, funny, insanely talented hockey player who makes me cross-stitches. Of course I was going to fall in love with him.”

“Yeah, I know. You were doomed the moment he stepped into your car.”

“Oh, and last week, when I had that issue with my passport, Rhode helped me call the office and stayed on hold for hours, Gwen, hours. He’s the first person I want to tell every good and bad thing to and all the little things in between.” I groan. “I even got a tattoo for him. How pathetic is that?”

She hisses a breath. “Please tell me you didn’t get his name tattooed on you. I’ll look up removal places if you did.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not his name, but I’m not telling you. It’s private.”

I’m hoarding that mistake like a secret. It’s something I can make up a meaning for, but that’s what I get for walking into a tattoo parlor all blissed out on an orgasm after Rhode blindfolded me, tied me to his headboard, and made me come so hard I forgot my middle name.

Now, he’ll be imprinted forever on my body.

Gwen peers at me in my periphery, but I keep my eyes on the hockey game. “You sound… oddly okay with all of this?”

My throat burns, so I take another sip of beer. It doesn’t quench the ache. “No, I’m not okay, but I have to be because there’s no alternative. There’s nothing I can do about the fact that I’m in love with him. The only person I have to blame is myself because he’s never once led me on. He’s always been upfront about what he wants.”

“What’s that?”

“Marriage. A family. Kids. I could be that person if I were older, but I’m not in a place to sacrifice my dreams. I’d never ask him to give up what he wants either, and he’s going to renew his contract, so this ends when I leave.”

We aren’t destined, but that’s okay.

The idea of fate bringing two strangers together is a pretty one, but love is stronger when it’s a choice. Rhode will find his perfect match and get the perfect house with the perfect life, and it will all be so perfect. My scoff blows a piece of hair off my forehead.

I hope the woman he ends up with is absolutely nothing like me. Maybe I’ll meet some Argentinian Alfarero—a potter who can only communicate through kisses since we don’t speak the same language. Nausea churns at the thought of someone who isn’t Rhode, but this way, even if my heart breaks, I won’t.

“You realize how many women would kill to be in your position right?” Gwen asks. “I’d give up my career for that man. Let him fund your life.”

“Well, he’s not your man, he’s my man.” I bristle in annoyance because that doesn’t even come close to Rhode’s depth.

“I didn’t fall in love with Rhode Tremblay, Nashville’s Naughtiest Bachelor. I fell in love with the man who makes me cross-stitches, and always makes sure I have an aisle seat. The man who drives forty-five minutes to buy decaf beans from my favorite roaster. The man I spend more time staring at on a screen than I do in person because he’s gone so much,” I mutter, sipping my beer. “I hate being in love with a professional athlete. I never see him.”

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” She wraps her arm around me, and instead of pulling away, I rest my cheek on her slender shoulder. “What are you going to do about it?”