Page 41 of The Captain

Mortified doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt when we walked out of that bathroom and back to the table with all our friends there waiting. I felt like every one of them knew exactly what happened, especially since when we got back, Josephine had taken my seat, leaving me to sit right next to Lincoln for the entire dinner.

Which he took full advantage of, keeping his hand on me in some way throughout dinner.

The urge to feel relief and cry at the same time was real. I don’t understand my feelings. I’m stressed about the situation, and it’s because confrontation wasn’t my thing.

So imagine my surprise when I found myself driving to the ice rink to find the one man who held my heart in his hands for exactly that.

I knew after dinner that we were going to have to figure out how to get along for the sake of Mick and Tanner. They deserved happiness. They deserve to have a wedding where their bridal party didn’t fight.

I was doing this for them.

And maybe a little for me.

The past few months have been torture. Not being with Lincoln has been heart-wrenching.

Stepping into the ice rink feels like walking to my death. The feelings that come with being in this building again brought up all sorts of emotions. But when I hear the squeals of little kids echoing around the rink and the loud boom of laughter from Lincoln, my heart gives a little thud, and I find a smile crossing my lips.

I step inside, keeping close to the wall to hopefully not be seen by too many people. There are parents in the stands watching their kids, and probably close to thirty kids are in the rink. I blink when I see Crew skating at the opposite end of the rink, talking with some of the kids.

I had no idea he was coaching, too.

When I’d asked Mick where Lincoln was working, her answer didn’t surprise me. Mick didn’t pry when I asked, and I was grateful she didn’t. I think she could see I wasn’t handling something well.

As far as I knew, though, they knew very little about Lincoln and my relationship. We’d kept to ourselves during our very brief but intense time together, mostly because I don’t think either of us realized what it all meant until it came crashing down around us.

I shuffle my way to the bleachers and take a seat a few rows up. It’s dark enough that I draw little attention to myself, and I give a close-lipped smile to the parents who see me.

Settling, I crossed my jean-clad legs and snuggled into my Rose Hill hoodie. It was the hockey one, and I’d gotten it on a whim. I probably shouldn’t have worn it, but I’d been in a rush out the door this morning, not allowing myself to take extra time to get ready so I wouldn’t talk myself out of coming at all.

A whistle blows, and my attention is drawn back to the rink, my mind going to a conversation we had just before he played the last game when we were together. A game I didn’t go to because I didn’t think I could face my friends during a time when I was falling for my best friend’s brother.

“You could wear my jersey; we could announce we’re together.”

“Oh yeah, you think it’s that easy?”

“To tell everyone how I feel? Absolutely.”

I blink rapidly at the moisture in my eyes. Now was not the time to be thinking about that.

Because immediately after that conversation was when everything blew up.

Lincoln starts leading everyone around the rink, and the little kids follow him quickly, laughing at the quick pace he sets.

As he nears the part of the rink I’m on, nerves start to get the better of me, and fleeing suddenly sounds like a good idea.

He glances up, a wide smile on his face, and his quick look at the bleachers shouldn’t mean anything, except when he does, somehow, he zeros right in on my face. I give him a little wave, and he stumbles on his skates for a quick second, shock evident, before he rights himself.

I would laugh at his misstep if I wasn’t so damn nervous. The class ends, and I stay seated where I am, watching parents get their kids ready to go. Lincoln is rushing through whatever routine he normally has until a parent comes and talks to him, and he takes a breath and smiles, talking with whomever comes over about worries or concerns. Every few minutes, he glances over at me as if willing me to hang around.

I was here, I had no intention of bailing now that he saw me.

Even if avoiding him is a lot easier.

Is it, Cassie?

“Cassie!” I jerk out of my thoughts and smile over at Crew, who bounds up the stairs. I stand, and he wraps his arms around me, lifting me slightly off my feet as he does so. I give him a hug back.

“How are you doing?” I ask, hanging back again. I miss hanging out with Crew. After our little snafu a few months ago, things have definitely been strained, and given that he’s Lincoln’s best friend, I’ve opted not to interfere with that again.

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