Page 10 of Love so Cold

Avery

The man's got the charm of a cinder block.

Jessica

Sure but he's rich and pretty.

That combo usually doesn't repel.

Avery

Rich, pretty, and insufferable.

I can almost hear their laughter through the digital space between us.

Emily

Too bad, really

A little romance might thaw out the ice queen herself.

Avery

Ha-ha

In truth, part of me wonders if Victor's icy facade could ever melt. But then, I've built my own walls pretty high.

"Mom?" Olivia's small voice pulls me from our banter. Her eyes are wide with concern.

"Hey, what's up, honey?" I slide my phone away, giving her my full attention.

"Are you sure you're not mad that I want to join the hockey team?" She tugs at the hem of her shirt, a nervous habit she's had since she was tiny. I can tell she's really anxious about this decision and needs the extra reassurance.

"Mad?" I pull her into a side hug. "Of course not, Liv. I'm proud of you for wanting to try something new."

"Really?" Her uncertainty pinches my heart.

"Really," I affirm, squeezing her shoulder. "You should always do what makes you happy, no matter what anyone else thinks. Even if it's playing hockey with the boys."

"Even if it's being sponsored by that guy you hate?" she probes, her innocence about the world's complexities both refreshing and painful.

"Oh, I don't hate him, sweets," I say, trying to convince myself that that's true. I've technically never met the man, so how could I really hate him? I press a kiss to the top of her head. "Life's too short to live by someone else's playbook. Remember that."

"Okay, Mom." She smiles, some of the worry smoothing from her features. "Thanks."

"Anything for you, kiddo." And I mean it. If braving the cold bleachers and Victor Stone's shadow is what it takes to support her dreams, then that's exactly what I'll do. I just intend to raise hell for Victor Stone while doing it.

Chapter Six

Victor

I tryto stifle a yawn as I watch the scenery go by. I know I agreed, but I still feel like my PR team tricked me into returning to Worcester for even more abuse. Worse than that, the events they booked were morning events, meaning I barely got any sleep before finding myself back on the road. Jenna's voice cuts through the silence of the car, her tone businesslike and brisk.

"So the press will obviously be there, but we've also hired some press friendly to our cause to ask questions so that it's not entirely one-sided," she says, her eyes fixed on her tablet.

I take a sip from my coffee cup, the bitter liquid doing little to thaw my groggy brain. The steam fogs upthe window for a second, blurring the world outside into a watercolor smear. I'm only half-listening, my mind still tangled in thoughts of yesterday's protest and the relentless grind of public appearances.

"Uh-huh," I grunt, noncommittal.

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