Page 119 of Icebound

Grumbling, I yank off another couch cushion. I haven’t told her what happened with Rhode, but I miss talking to her in the way only sisters can—no minced words, no second thoughts, just brutal honesty, sometimes, to a fault. Except my stubbornness is stronger than my desperation.

The rational part of me realizes the kiss was before I met Rhode. I’m not even mad at him. It wasn’t deliberate, and Gwen didn’t do it maliciously, but it goes back to the petty jealousy that stems from living in her eternal shadow.

All I want is someone who belongs completely to me, but now, she’ll have a piece of Rhode.

Gwen drags herself into the living room with pieces of blonde hair falling out of her bun. “This is why I told you to write the speech on your phone.”

“That’s a really unhelpful comment, Gwendolyn.”

“Can you stop calling me that?”

“Only when you start acting like my sister and not my nemesis.”

I scan her grungy attire. It’s like we’ve gone through a complete role reversal because she’s the one wearing a hoodie like a second skin while I’m in a calf-length floral sundress. The attire for the event said smart casual, which is the most unhelpful description, but I figured this sundress Gwen lent me would work.

She snatches her car keys from the kitchen counter. “Come on, let’s go, or you’re going to be late for your speech.”

I bite my thumbnail at the reminder. “You really haven’t seen my notecards? Are you sure? Think hard.”

Her spring green eyes bloom with warmth. “No. I’m sorry. I haven’t, but I really don’t think you need them. You’ve been practicing all month. You’ll be fine. Have you asked Rhode? Maybe he has them?”

I flinch at the sound of his name like I do anytime she asks about him. “No, I haven’t. Let’s just go. I’ll rewrite it on my phone on the way there.”

We hop into Gwen’s car, and she presses the start button. As we drive, I gaze out at the blurring skyline. A mesmerizing palette of roses, corals, and aquamarines streak across nature’s largest canvas.

I could see this sunset every day and never grow tired of watching the colors change, just like how I never got tired of memorizing the variations of Rhode’s smile, noting when that dimple would appear and when it wouldn’t. I wish he could be here with me tonight.

Fifteen minutes later, Gwen pulls up to a brick building with ivy climbing up the walls and pink bougainvilleas dangling from the archway.

The studio’s name, Pierre’s Hideaway, is etched in elegant gold lettering above the entrance. “Okay, we’re here.”

She reaches for my hand, gently prying the thumbnail I've been gnawing at from my lips. “You’re going to be fine, Nina. You’ve been working on this speech for months. You don’t need the notecards. All you have to do is talk about why you like art, which you can talk about for days.”

“You’re right.” I nod to convince myself. “Thanks for driving me. I’ll see you at home.”

“Wow? A thank you?” she teases, pressing a hand to her chest. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Absolutely not,” I quip, though I’m tempted to say yes because I miss her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I got this. They didn’t have any extra tickets, anyway.”

Smoothing my dress, I step out of the car and peer closer at the gallery's mosaic archway, where intricate patterns of glass capture my attention.

Beautiful.

The artist must’ve used a marvering technique to shape the sculpture in those bubbles.

I stride into the gallery beneath a banner that reads The Peaceful Mind Project. The charity auction’s in full swing, and a bead of sweat forms on my upper lip, but I give my head a hard shake.

If I can attend hockey games and go to sponsor events with Rhode, I can handle one three-minute introduction speech. Pushing open the glass door, I accidentally bump into a man in a fedora. “Excuse me.”

“Not a problem.”

The crowd in the art studio is more eclectic than the paintings on the wall. There’s everyone from wealthy benefactors donning tuxedos to artists huddled around pottery wheels, lost in their work. I spot a few familiar faces from class, but it's one person who causes me to freeze in my tracks.

Rhode.