e P
napped to me, the silenc
n, be serious. She's the creek girl. She belongs in rubber waders, not on competit
ers, but it didn't reach the hockey players. They
e eyes were fixed on me with an intense, steady faith that sent a sharp shiver down my spine.
nthusiasm. "ALRIGHT! Since everyone is in-winner takes the captain
pitying applause. Sasha leaned over the boards, her voice loud and cutting: "Adorable. Like a duck learning
l to ensure Brooke stood alone at the top of th
was Brook
t. She had the posture of someone who had paid for expensive private lessons, and she executed a single toe loop with practiced precision. S
ere I was standing by the boards, her face flushed with the kind of victory that comes f
"Still want to go? It's okay to back out. Nobody expects a lab nerd to stay on her feet once
her. I didn't
eryone else, this was a campus prank. To me, it was the first time in four years that the phantom ache in my a
es, his brow slightly arched. He was waiting. Not for the girl he'd met at
liberate. I tossed it onto the wooden bench, leaving me in the fitted bl
s people noticed the lean, corded muscle of my shoulders and the discipli
or and manic glee. "Hold my notebook," I said, my voicelia hissed, her green eyes blazing.
felt like walking back into a graveyard-my graveyard. For four years, I had kept the girl who lived f
y clawing at my throat. It promised the sting of the cold and the weight of a thousand
slipping as he watched me walk away from the ri
ps of my bag, where four hundred dollars of custom-molded l
for the first time, I let Brooke see
y skates,
/1/129726/coverbig.jpg?v=d952b45e9b05aae9f5803a8b2c8d4fc6&imageMogr2/format/webp)