Page 108 of Icebound

I swallow around the giant lump that’s taken permanent residence in my throat. “It’s getting to be too much, so I’ll probably end things soon, and then fuck my way through Argentina.”

“That sounds really unhealthy.”

“Yeah, it’s a horrible coping mechanism, but it’s the only one I’ve got. It’s going to hurt no matter what, but I need to break my own heart before he does.”

The idea of ending things makes it feel like something’s dying in my chest, but I’ll survive. I always do.

I shift my gaze back to the TV. Eighty-Eight looks like he’s getting ready for a breakaway, but at the last second, Micah intercepts the puck. I cheer and then sink back down onto the wobbly stool.

Gwen twists the napkin on the bar counter, spinning it around like a whirling thought. The Guardians almost score another goal before she says anything. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to get mad?”

I keep my focus locked on the screen so I don’t miss anything. “No, I can’t promise that until I know what you’re going to say, but if it’s bothering you, you should tell me anyway.”

“You’re going to hate me again,” she mumbles.

That comment has me glancing her way. She’s staring into the depths of her green beer like she wants the murky liquid to swallow her. “What is it?”

“What a rocket!” the announcer shouts. “Look at that puck fly!”

I whip my gaze to the screen right in time to see Rhode block the shot. The bar erupts into raucous cheers. I cup my hands around my mouth. “Woo! Go, Tremblay! Did you see that, Gwen? Okay, sorry. Got distracted. What were you saying?”

She squeezes her eyes closed, inhaling the hoppy-scented air, and my stomach coils tight. The only time I’ve seen her this nervous was when she kept hiding her relationship with Isaac.

“Okay, I’m just going to come out and say it because you love him, and this has been eating me alive… I might’ve kissed Rhode once when I was wasted, but it was before you met him,” she blurts. “It meant absolutely nothing, I swear. He pushed me away and didn’t even kiss me back, but I asked him not to tell you because we’d been doing so well, and I didn’t want to make you upset.”

I blink, trying to process her confession. “You… kissed him?”

She looks at her beige nails. “Yeah, it was the night that tire popped. Isaac and I had a massive fight about… Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I was mad, so I walked up to the first hot stranger I saw and kissed him.”

I crumple a napkin in my hand as I imagine them in some smoky bar, shoving their tongues down each other’s throats. Anger tinged with jealousy bolts through me like nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s a hundred times worse than when I walked in on her with Isaac.

“Please tell me this is a fucking joke, Gwendolyn.”

She has the audacity to look guilty but quickly reaches for my arm. I yank my hand away before she can touch me. “It’s not, but I swear he never kissed me back, and I don’t feel anything for Rhode. Nothing, and honestly, Nina, even if I did, that man looks at you like you’re the only star in the sky. I would never ever do anything to jeopardize our relationship again. I promise.”

“Obviously you feel something if you kissed him.” I throw a hand out and accidentally knock over my glass of beer onto the wooden floor. “Can you not let me have one thing?”

I scramble down to pick it up. “Why are you always like this? You take everything. If it’s not Isaac, it’s Rhode. If it’s not my nail polish, it’s my shirt. You’re even wearing my earrings right now.”

“Alstyne!” Bart yells. “Tone it down.”

“Sorry, Bart. We’re in the middle of a very heated argument.”

“Well, un-heat it.”

Gwen’s green eyes blur with tears. “Nina, it’s not like that at all.”

“Right. Of course you don’t think it’s like that because you get everything. The perfect life. The perfect job. The guy. Fucking everything,” I spit out. “Do you get some vindictive satisfaction out of this? Is that it?”

“Nina, please,” she pleads, gripping my arm. I snatch it away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It didn’t mean anything, and I would never want you to feel that way.”

“That’s what you said last time, Gwendolyn. I can’t keep giving you second, no third, chances.”

“Ladies and gentlepeople,” the announcer says, cutting through my crimson haze. “We've got a concerning turn of events here. It appears that Rhode Tremblay, the backbone of the Guardian’s defense, has been injured on the ice. Play has come to a halt, and the medical staff is rushing to his aid. Let's hope it's nothing serious, and he'll be back on his feet soon.”

A chill cracks through my body like ice splintering on a frozen lake, submerging me in dread. Whipping my head to the screen, I watch as a team of medics run onto the ice. The view turns blurry.

Why can’t I see?