Page 120 of Broken Hearts
I wipe my hands on a rag as he steps into view. His jeans are far too clean to be the repair guy and there’s no toolbox in sight.
“Rhett?” He juts his chin.
“Yeah. Who are you?”
He grins. A cocky smirk that flickers recognition in my brain. “Elias.”
* * *
“To what doI owe the pleasure? Wait, does Sienna know you’re here? She’ll be so pissed I met you before she did.”
“No, she doesn’t know, but actually I met our girl last week.”
“Really?” I smile, picturing Sienna’s face meeting her best friend after all this time.
He nods. I get the sense he’s not going to give me more details unless I pry.
“How is she?”
“Oh no. You won’t get any info out of me.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough. Wanna tell me why you’re here then?”
“In time, Robbie.”
“Kind of far from Toronto to swing by.”
“We’re training in Auburn for the next two months. It’s my partner, Taylor’s hometown rink.”
“Well, if you’re not going to tell me why you’re here, wanna grab a side? This door is sticking. A little kid couldn’t get out last night. Major catastrophe.”
Elias snickers. “I’ll bet.”
We work together to replace the warped hinge and then get the door back on.
“Thank fuck,” I say when we test it out and the door swings open without issue.
I toss him a dirty rag to wipe his hands and then grab a couple of stray chairs and motion for him to sit while I do the same.
“Place isn’t half bad.” He sits and glances around the arena.
“It’s been in my family for four generations. Skating and hockey camps in the summer, classes year-round, and we rent it out for teams.” I have a lot of plans to expand and bring in more revenue opportunities, but in time.
“Reminds me of the rink I grew up skating at.” His gaze continues to roam. “She almost came to see you.”
“She did?” My heart kicks up a notch at just the idea.
“She talked herself out of it. Decided you needed to work out your shit on your own.”
I nod. I guess I did say that, and I meant it, but in the time we’ve been apart, I just feel like I’m slogging through mud. I’m slowly losing my mind, or what’s left of it, anyway.
“I miss her.”
“But?”
“I don’t want to drag her down with me while I work through my shit.”
“Because you don’t think she can handle it physically?”
