Page 33 of Hearts on Ice
Pride, the bane of her existence, was determined to keep her from being happy.
CHAPTER13
Declan woke up to a ringing phone. He reached for it on his bedside table and answered it before his eyes were completely open.
“You’re getting back with Colby?”
“What?” He sat up at the sound of his mother’s voice, then pulled the phone back to look at the screen. Just after ten. He’d been asleep about fifteen minutes. “Mom?”
“Declan? Did you see the news? They’re talking about the two of you getting back together.”
“No, Mom, we’re not getting back together. I was asleep. I have to get up in like six hours.”
“I thought you got a manager. Can’t your manager open the rink for you?”
“I have a pair I’m coaching. With Colby. Which is why there are pictures of us.”
“Colby? Is coaching?”
“She’s doing the choreography, and we’re working a few things out. I don’t agree with some of her choices but—” Why was he explaining this to his mother? He sat up, propped his elbows on his knees and dragged his hand through his hair.
“I just feel like this is such a mistake, and seeing it on the news—I would have thought you would have told me about this. She hurt you so badly, I can’t believe that you’re giving her the time of day.”
Curiosity chased away the drowsiness. “What exactly did you see on the news?”
“There’s video of you and she walking out of a restaurant together and getting into your truck, and more video of you skating together, doing a lift?”
“Was there?” He reached for his laptop and opened it, typed his name into the search engine.
Ah, hell. Video from practice when they’d been working on that lift. He had the signs posted in the rink prohibiting cameras. Who was recording their sessions?
He’d felt a little wobbly on his skates when they’d been out there, but if he looked at the video objectively, they did a pretty good job. His arm was straight over his head, Colby held her body in position before she flipped off his hands and onto the ice. She’d proclaimed it muscle memory, but they were just that good together.
On the ice. Consummately bad for each other outside of the rink.
“She was a good girl, I always liked her, but not for you. You knew how to be happy, but she didn’t. She was always searching. She didn’t know how good she had it with you.”
He really didn’t want to talk about his relationship with Colby with his mother, especially when his brain was fogged from sleep. “Thanks for calling, Mom. You and Dad okay?”
She launched into a speech about them and their golfing friends but he couldn’t stop flipping though web pages and their speculation on his and Colby’s supposed reunion. He stopped on one page with the headline “Ten Reasons Declan and Colby Should Get Back Together.”
Most of the reasons were just synonyms of other reasons—mostly that they were good together, that they’d grown up together, that he’d been so romantic to propose on the podium, that he’d kept her grounded, and she’d kind of gone off the rails after they split.
But what captivated him were the photographs, many of which he hadn’t seen in years. A few were from photo sessions, post-gold medal, one where they were sitting facing each other, looking into each other’s eyes, their fingers twining, showing off her engagement ring.
What he remembered was how she’d been looking at him in the moment, her eyes full of flirtation and promise, her foot along his leg out of view of the camera. Their private moment had led to a great picture, and looking at it hit him low in the belly. Why couldn’t they have held onto that? He’d never been as happy as he was then. More sane, sure, but never as happy. He’d never met another woman who he could open himself to. He thought that was because Colby had hurt him, but now he wondered…
“Declan? Are you there?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m there, Mom. Here, I mean. Listen, can I call you tomorrow? Earlier? I’ve got to get up early.”
“Of course. But don’t let me hear about what’s going on with your life from the evening news, all right?”
“I won’t. Love to Dad.” Without waiting for a response, he disconnected and kept scrolling.
He didn’t go to sleep for a long time.
The next morningwas the first morning with the security guard, and while other cars were in the lot, no one approached he and Colby when they got out of his truck. Her car was repaired, but she was waiting on some more money, so he was still giving her a ride, though she had offered again to take the day off.
