Page 13 of Lost on Ice
“But Abbie?—”
“I’ll live.” I say. “I’m not going to tell him, but this way I start to… you know, foster a new kind of relationship with him. Non-sexual. As … friends, maybe. I’ll get through this.”
Or I’ll fake it well enough that no one suspects that I’m dying inside.
“Okay,” she whispers, “But call me instantly if you need me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I head to my room so I can drop off my stuff. Thankfully, Jake’s already left, but dread balls up inside me as we head down to the lobby.
When we step off the elevator, he’s there with Carter, Tom, Jordan and his best friends Bodhi and Theo, and a large group of other boys laden down with duffel bags and hockey gear. Sophie is nearby, watching me closely. Jake glances up, his gaze snagging mine for just a second, long enough to make my lungs forget their purpose.
When he grins, I jerk my gaze away from him.
Sophie gives my arm a little squeeze, but I square my shoulders and keep walking. No flinching. No freezing.
I can get through this. I can! If he can act like nothing ever happened between us, like the past three years were just a blip on his radar … then so can I.
I’m not going to let myself be swept up by his charm and good looks again.
We arrive at the rink and the guys go with the team to the locker room while Sophie and I make our way to our seats to watch the game. Jake goes off with hunched shoulders and a small frown, and I think he’s getting the hint that I don’t want to talk to him, even if he doesn’t know why.
“You okay?” Sophie asks me for about the millionth time.
I force a smile and try to sound reassuring. “I’m totally fine, don’t worry.”
“Are you sure?” She looks around, as if expecting Jake to pop out of thin air at any moment. “You don’t think you’ll, uh, fall back into old patterns or something?”
I let out a laugh that even I can tell sounds tight. “I’m perfectly capable of controlling myself, Soph.”
“And what about Lilah…?”
We’re getting fully settled in our seats when I spot Jake making his way toward us and I give a quick shake of my head. My heart starts hammering again. There he is, the father of my child. The man I’ve never gone a day without thinking about. The guy who I’ve spent countless nights fuming over, thinking of …
No. Donotdo that. He’s just a regular guy. I look away from him again, squeeze Sophie’s hand, and plaster my face with the biggest — and fakest — smile. “Hi, Jake.”
“Hey,” he replies, inching into the seat behind me and leaning over me like the looming menace he is. “Just finished giving the boys a rousing pep talk. This should be a good game.”
“You’re not going to watch with Carter and Tom on the bench?” Sophie asks, arching a brow at him.
He shakes his head. “Nah. I don’t want to get in the way.” He moves to sit next to me with a grin. “Looks like we can finally have a chance to catch up.”
Be cool.
“Oh yeah?” I raise an eyebrow, spreading my smile so hard my cheeks hurt. “Do we actually have anything to catch up on?”
He flinches at this. I have to admit, the awkwardness in his gestures is the best perk I’m getting from this.
“I mean, uh…” He scratches his head. “Yeah, it’s been… you know, three years.”
“Heh.” I shrug. “I assumed nothing big happened to you in the past three years. Otherwise you would’ve called, right?”
His eyes widen and he looks surprised, but then they narrow and flash with irritation. “Well, since you never called either, I suppose nothing major has happened in your life either.”
That catches me off-guard and I feel a flare of panic as I think of Lilah. “Hey, that’s your problem, buster,” I say, and force myself to laugh. “You made it pretty clear you don’t like actually talking about anything thicker than a centimeter.” I grab Sophie’s arm. “Why don’t we pay attention to the game?”
He glares at me, but I turn my gaze and focus on the rink. The puck drops, and the game starts. Every time Jordan touches the puck, we all cheer, but the tension between Jake and me continues to grow stronger and stronger and more distracting. At some point Jake gets up, comes back with a cup of coffee, and chuckles at us.
