Page 51 of Ice Darling
“Gordie’s great.”
“I agree.” His eyes meet mine. It’s too dim to see the flecks of green inside the irises, but I know they’re there.
Shyness steals over me, and I suddenly can’t maintain eye contact.
My phone pings with a new message.
Mom:I’m coming back to town soon. I’d love to meet this ‘great love’ that you mentioned last time.
The butterflies in my stomach turn to bats from the deepest of caves. I’m going to be sick.
Renthrow notices and juts his chin at my phone. “Bad news?”
“Close. It’s my mom.” I rub my forehead, wondering how I’m going to navigate a second visit from my mother.
Mom only retreated the first time because we were both overwhelmed at the sight of each other. The next time, I won’t be able to shrug her off.
“I better go. Thanks again for the food.”
“Cordelia.”
My heart jumps when Renthrow calls my name. I take a deep, centering breath.
The giant man taps the faucet so the water stops and abandons the sink. As he walks toward me, I feel my pulse rocketing.
The fact that he’s got a Hello Kitty apron tied around his waist does not take the edge off his intimidating height and overwhelming presence. He’s wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans, but he may as well be in full hockey gear, skating down the ice to steal the puck from me.
I ease back when he steps directly into my space. “W-what are you?—”
“Do you still want me?”
I can hear my pulse ringing in my ears.
“To act as your”—he stumbles over the word—“boyfriend?”
My eyebrows climb all the way to my hairline.
His gaze drops to my phone and back to me. “Isn’t that what you wanted when your mom first came to Lucky Falls?”
“Why are you bringing that up now? You made yourself extremely clear that day.”
“My circumstances have changed. I think we can help each other.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Gordie’s struggled a lot since her nanny left. Miss Truman has been with Gordie since she was two or three years old, and it hit her really hard when she left.” Renthrow pauses as if this part is hard for him to say. “She’s been diagnosed with an attachment disorder.”
I mentally retrace what I saw when I first entered the house. “The table?”
He nods, and I can see the strain in his eyes as he admits, “She has withdrawal episodes,and she goes into a state where no one can reach her. No one but you.”
The weight of those words land on me like a V8 engine. “I-I didn’t do anything.”
“You didsomething. And whatever it is, I need it.” He swallows hard. “I need you.”
My chest swells and contracts with a heated breath.
“I mean, my daughter needs you.” He pulls back, eyes heavy. “Today was the fastest she’s been okay again.”
