Page 133 of Ice Darling
“He must be flattered,” I say, blinking innocently.
“He’s oblivious, as most men are. But I have a feeling that things are about to turn around. As long as no one interferes.”
Anger seeps through my veins.
My nostrils flare.So you’re just being obvious then? Telling me to back off?
I want to fire back a response, but Gordie comes bounding down the stairs with her telescope, and Mrs. Renthrow comes into the living room too.
“Look, isn’t it cool?” Gordie squeals as she points to her small, pink telescope. It might be tinier than the real deal, but it looks solid. Renthrow doesn’t scrimp when it comes to his daughter.
“Wow. You could bring this in for Show and Tell, Gordie!” Miss Potts exclaims.
“Yeah!” Gordie screams in excitement.
“And when you do, you could share with the class all about stars.” The teacher gently steers Gordie away from me and into the living room.
“I could show everyone pictures of the Science Museum too!” Gordie bobs her head up and down.
Miss Potts sits cross-legged on the floor, and Gordie sits with her, looking totally and completely at ease as they talk.
I watch them and feel a strange sense of disquiet. Apart from the moments she has her claws out for Renthrow, Miss Potts possesses that ever-elusivesomethingthat Gwen had. It’s more than mere beauty. It’s this…gentleness…that skipped me entirely.
I don’t question for a second her affections toward Gordie. It’s obvious that she cares deeply for her, and Gordie seems happy around her teacher too.
Of course, she would be.
What am I doing fighting over Renthrow? What matters to him—more than anything in the world—is Gordie.
I can exchange cloaked punches with Miss Potts all day, every day, but when it comes tothisarena, when it comes to being a mother to someone, I’ve already lost the fight…
Because I wouldn’t dare get into the ring in the first place.
Chapter Forty-Four
Renthrow
When it comes to Cordelia Davenport, I keep doing things I shouldn’t. Addhugging her to death in broad daylightto the laundry list of infractions.
I cut the shower and run my hands through my wet hair, sighing. When I’m around the woman, I can’t seem to act normal.
Absently, I reach out to grab a towel from the rack and realize that it’s empty. I was in such a hurry to get away that I must have forgotten to snag one.
Thankfully, I notice a hand towel by the sink. I use that to dry up as much of myself as I can and then dress in a T-shirt and jeans.
The moment I pull on the T-shirt, I regret it. I didn’t do a great job of drying my upper half as I did my lower. The T-shirt immediately sticks to my skin and feels like I traded a sweaty jersey for an equally sweaty shirt.
Pulling the shirt away from my chest to keep it from absorbing any more moisture, I head to my bedroom.
Voices drift from downstairs. Gordie’s is the loudest, as expected. She’s gushing about the meteor shower that’s slated to hit in the next month or so.
She wants to go camping, so we can be close to the stars, but I’m hesitant to take her that far from civilization. The signal out in the hills is terrible, and I hate the idea of being stranded out there without the ability to call her therapist in case she has an episode.
I close my bedroom door behind me and whip off my shirt. What should I wear to the arcade now?
I think of Cordelia, her pretty brown eyes, soft lips, and slim frame in my gray sweatshirt. Should I wear something similar? I have more than one of those sweatshirts.
Opening my closet, I reach for a sweatshirt tucked in the back when the shirt sleeves suddenly start slapping me in the face.
