Page 134 of Jaded

Besides, I have big dreams that don’t mesh well with big feelings.

Chapter 32

Nat

Ileaveafterwefinish our Chinese. Olli istired; I see it in the hollows of his eyes, his languid movements. Besides, I haven’t entirely forsaken my parental duties, and I have work early the next morning—need to open the rink for high school practice.

So there isn’t much time between when I leave Olli’s cozy house in the evening and when I’m shaking Syd awake the next morning to trundle her into the truck for practice, out in the cold and dark of Day River.

Leaving is good, I tell myself.

I need space. Because sooner or later, I’ll have to face the aftermath of . . . Of us. Me and Olli.

I’m glad Syd’s half asleep in the passenger seat, her head tilted against the window.

My fingers go white on the wheel as the memories crash back over me. Olli in the woods, his lips flitting down my throat, fingers tugging at my pants. Olli curled into the bed beside me, tucked into my arms, feeling like he belongs there.

Beautiful. So fucking beautiful—and I can’t deny that anymore. Can’t deny that whatever this is, whatever I’m feeling. It’s real. It’s not a drunken or off-kilter fantasy, the product of an uncertain mind or sudden upheaval in my life. This, this thing with Olli . . . it’s here, real, solid. Not going away.

I don’t want it to.

But I don’t know what I want it to be either. Are we hooking up? Friends with benefits? Dating? And what does any of that look like when it’s combined with the thing we are first and foremost—coworkers?

Questions, so many questions, I can’t even begin to know how to answer. Or maybe I’m too scared to seek answers because I’m worried I’ll ruffle these deceptively still waters and discover there’s an eddying riptide lurking just below the mirrored surface.

I pull the truck into the rink parking lot. “Syd. We’re here.”

“Fuck,” she mutters, before she opens the door and tumbles out into the cold. I follow her to the rink.

Maybe I should talk to Brenda—I wince. No.

No, I’m thinking too much. Whatever’s happening between us, it feels right. Good. And maybe, for once, I’ll simply ride the current instead of trying to paddle against it.

Besides, we still have to be coworkers first and foremost—which means I have to figure out how to share a locker room with him sometimes too.

Fuck.

Olli, of course, takes full advantage of this a handful of hours later, when he shoots me a cheeky wink and drops his towel to the floor.

“Asshole,” I mutter, jerking my gaze away before I can see anything. How badly I long to look, to take in the perfect image of Olli James devoid of clothing.

“Taylor.” Coach pokes his head into the locker room. “My office.”

Any fantasies or thoughts of Olli in the nude evaporate into thin air. “Shit.”

“You know what he wants?” Olli drags his jeans over his hips. Still takes willpower not to study those lean, chiseled muscles.

My stomach churns as my brain catches up to Olli’s words. “I have no idea.”

He grimaces. “Maybe it’s better not to speculate. I’m a textbook overthinker.”

“I’m the opposite.” I stand, ignoring the roil of uncertainty in my gut. “Wish me luck, I guess.”

Coach sits behind a shining, barren desktop. He peers at me over the top of a pair of plastic-framed glasses as I enter. More nerves burn through my gut, but beneath that, there’s something else. Something harder, something stronger, something I haven’t felt for a long time.

“Sit, stand, I don’t care.” Coach swipes the glasses from his nose and sets them down. “I’ll make it short. Taylor, I know you’ve been skating the Ice Out for years now.”

Coach has never been one to sugar-coat his words. And I suppose me skating the Ice Out isn’t terribly hard to believe, for someone who’s known me as long as he has.

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