Icebreaker: Chapter 11

IF THERE’S one day I’m exceptionally grateful for Aaron, it’s competition days.

In contrast to my fidgeting, panicking self, Aaron is calm and relaxed, gently reassuring me that it will be okay. Meanwhile, I’m throwing up from anxiety.

Unsurprisingly, according to him, it was okay, and we’re going to sectionals. Brady even joked that I skated better than usual, crediting my serious head injury.

Go figure.

I’m like this every time; the older I get, the more there is at stake, and the worse the anxiety becomes. Aaron is as calm as, if not calmer than, he was when we started skating together freshman year. I think the difference is Aaron hasn’t not qualified before, he’s never fallen and gone flying across a rink, and thankfully, he’s never dropped me.

He’s never given himself a reason not to be confident.

We got through today, but the pressure is on even more for sectionals next month. If we get through that, we’re off to nationals in January.

Brady has been annoyed with me from day one for not going further in my younger years. She says I have the talent, and she doesn’t understand why I haven’t been to international competitions before. The honest answer is that my partner at the time, James, wasn’t up to it, and I didn’t want to find someone new because I loved him.

Absurd is her favorite way to describe it.

“You were amazing today,” Aaron says, looking at me from the driver’s seat. We usually travel with Aubrey, but Aaron drove today since the competition was close. “I can’t wait for Brin to see the video.”

After something like this, Sabrina is always subjected to a play-by-play of our routines. She’d previously said she would watch us in action, since it was so close by, but Robbie asked her to watch the Titans play their first home game of the season.

I was expecting Aaron to be a bitch about it when she floated the idea this morning, but he was surprisingly positive and said she could always come to the next one.

“You too. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“We’re a good team, Stas. We argue sometimes, but we can’t do what we do with other people. It wouldn’t be the same.”

Annoyingly, he isn’t wrong. “I know.”

“We’re going all the way. I can feel it. If we keep up what we’re doing, you stick to your meal plan. We can smash it.”

“Do you wanna grab dinner or something? I doubt Sabrina will be back from the Titans game against Washington yet.”

“I can’t, sorry. I’ve got plans with Cory and Davey; we’re going for drinks.”

My phone buzzes in the cup holder, and I reach for it, seeing Brin’s name flash up.

I know Sabrina well enough to know there’s no point in trying to avoid the guys tonight. It might be fun because, unfortunately, I like a lot of them.

I told her under no circumstances was I going with her to Robbie’s birthday party last week, and then I had to sit there, staring at her smug smile, while she did my makeup for the party I definitely wasn’t going to.

If she’s going out, and so is Aaron, there is no point in me staying home alone, right?

“That’s okay. Brin messaged to say she wants to go out anyway,” I tell him, stuffing my phone back into the cup holder.

“Trust Sabrina to get involved with a hockey guy, of all people,” he tuts, checking his mirrors before turning onto our road. “At least Rothwell isn’t a total jackass.”

I make a mental note to remember that. Ryan will be thrilled he’s only a bit of a jackass, not a total one.

Regardless of what feelings I have or have had about the hockey players, Robbie is great with Sabrina. He’s thoughtful and kind, but most importantly, he treats her with the respect she deserves. And even his parents were very sweet to her during her impromptu meeting with them, proving Robbie has been raised right.

Unlike some people I know.

“He makes her happy and it’s none of our business.”

“It will be when she gets knocked up and ghosted.”

“That’s not—” This argument isn’t worth it. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“You should stay away from them, Stassie. They’re bad news. You don’t always have to go where Sabrina tells you to, y’know.”

The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them down, desperate to not ruin what’s otherwise been a great day. “Okay.”

I don’t bother telling him I’ll be spending the evening with the exact people he wants me to avoid. Despite not wanting to spend time with me himself, he won’t want others to either.

“I’m trying to look out for you, Stassie. I care about you. We’re partners, that goes beyond skating. I know you’d do the same for me.”

I make allowances for Aaron, desperate to cling to those lovely moments we share. He does care about me, and he does care about Sabrina. But sometimes, like now, he says something that makes me question his real motives.

There are times when the idea he’d say anything bad about either of us feels impossible. When he’s fiercely loyal and protective, without being toxic, and when the three of us are tucked up together in our living room, watching movies and laughing.

Then there are times like now when the nasty streak he has seeps through the cracks. Sometimes it comes so out of nowhere it feels like whiplash, making me wonder if I know him at all.

I wait for the car to stop outside our building before leaning over to hug him. “I care about you, too, Aaron.”

I’M HALF-READY by the time Sabrina bulldozes her way into my bedroom, hopped up on beer and Jolly Ranchers.

“I love hockey!” She looks the part in her Allali jersey and Titans beanie, and I’m a little jealous I didn’t get to go. “Not as much as I love figure skating, obviously, ya ahla superstar. But hockey has more drama; it was like an opera, but with sticks. I’m obsessed.” She looks around, realizing I’m the only one home. “Where’s the ice princess?”

“Drinks with friends. I asked him if he wanted to grab dinner with me, but he said no. Oh, and hockey guys suck, and I don’t have to go where you tell me to, which is great news.”

“Ya Allah.” She groans, throwing herself on the couch beside me. “I swear, that boy is so dramatic. We’re going to The Honeypot, we’re not getting married.”

The Honeypot is the most popular nightclub in Los Angeles. It’s super exclusive; we only get in because Briar, our neighbor, works there. Sabrina made it her mission to befriend her when she found out we live in the same building.

Brin hates working out. No, that’s an understatement. Brin despises working out with her entire being, but she went to the gym every day until she’d charmed Briar.

She was candid about her motivations from the beginning, and luckily, Briar thought it was funny. Every time we’re at the club, Brin makes me buy her a drink to thank her for her sacrifice.

“No wedding? So, I shouldn’t wear my bridesmaid dress?” I tease, poking her in the ribs where she’s ticklish.

“Don’t!” she begs, rolling away from me. “I’m too full of beer to be prodded.” Stretching out, she kicks off her sneakers and reaches for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. “As soon as I’ve had a micronap, I’ll start getting ready. I swear.”

Sabrina’s micronap turned into a real nap, and I’ve been listening to her run around the apartment cursing, frantically trying to get ready, for the past forty-five minutes.

She’s blaming me, but she doesn’t remember the abuse she hurled my way each of the five times I tried to wake her up.

I’m alone with my thoughts while I wait, and I can’t escape the realization that I’m nervous about seeing Nate. He had Robbie text Sabrina this morning to pass on a good luck message, which was sweet of him.

It’s time for us to bury the hatchet. He’s clearly a good guy, like everyone has told me he is. Now I’ve had a week to process it, I don’t feel embarrassed about my lack of willpower last week.

We’re both adults. Sometimes adults let other adults prove they don’t need navigation tools to find a G-spot. It’s normal.

“Okay, I’m ready!”

Sabrina looks unreal in a black, strapless, corseted Max Morgan midi dress. It’s her go-to when she doesn’t know what to wear; she says she needs to get her money’s worth since it costs so much. She bought it last year during a rare trip to Rodeo Drive. It’s beautiful, but her dad was not pleased when he received her credit card bill.

Her chestnut brown hair is pin straight down her back, a contrast to her normal curls, and she’s framed her honey-brown eyes with a perfect winged eyeliner. Her golden-brown skin is glowing as she rubs in the last bit of shimmer. Looking up at me, she smiles. “I know I’m hot, but we need to leave. Steve has already been waiting five minutes.”

Walking across the lobby to our waiting Uber, Sabrina giggles to herself, which is always suspicious. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Sabrina…”

“Just wondering if you’re going to keep it in your pants tonight, but I realized you’re not wearing any anyway.”

“You’re so childish.”

“Sorry?”

“You’re not even a little bit sorry.”

She winks, holding open the car door for me as I climb in. “Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?”

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do. Just like you hated Hawkins when you came all over his face.”

Steve the Uber driver begins to choke on air, but he doesn’t say anything, which is enough for me to give him five stars when he drops us off.

The Honeypot is as busy as you’d expect on a Saturday night. We chat with Briar for a couple of minutes before someone tells her in her headset about an issue, and she runs off to deal with it.

The guys have reserved one of the booths in the VIP area, ready to celebrate their first win of the season. I’m most excited to see Henry; at this point, I don’t feel like that statement requires explanation.

It seems we aren’t the only ones who get perks from Briar. When Sabrina told me about the booth earlier, she also said Nate had pulled a favor so Henry wouldn’t get carded. He didn’t want Henry home alone, knowing he wouldn’t want to go to a campus party without them.

I’m trying not to obsess about how sweet it is.

I buy Brin her drink, thanking her for the millionth time for the six weeks that she did cardio. Making our way over to the booth, my stomach is full of nervous energy.

Bobby spots us first, crushing us both with an oxygen stealing hug. “I’m so glad you came,” he shouts over the music.

Mattie’s next, proudly showing me his swollen eye, which appears to be going dark purple. He shouts the details of his fight, looking to Brin for confirmation it was cool like he says it was.

Most of them are sitting in the booth; the rest are talking to people, obviously trying not to go home alone tonight. One person is missing though, not that I care. The only person I’m going home with tonight is Sabrina—I told her as much in the Uber. She gave me a sarcastic “Okay” and went back to texting Robbie.

I’m in a quieter part of the club with Joe and Kris, watching Henry talk to two women. The only way to describe how I’m feeling right now is astonished. They’re both hot as hell, flicking their hair around, throwing their heads back to laugh at everything he says. What’s he saying to them? Where is the quiet and shy Henry I know and love?

Joe laughs at my bewildered expression. “It’s like this everywhere we take him. Women freaking love him.”

No shit.

Kris huffs, gulping down his Jack and Coke. “I just wanna know how he does it so I can do it too.”

I’m busy listening to them discuss theories when hands land on my waist from behind, and I feel breath on my neck. “You shouldn’t be drinking. You have a head injury.”

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, I immediately spot the angry-looking cut on his cheek. Moving closer, I reach up, rubbing my thumb beneath it gently. “Did you try to do a quad Lutz too?”

Nate chuckles, his body vibrating against mine. “Yeah, you made it look super easy. Thought I’d try.”

My body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it’s the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol. I’m unbothered by the proximity. The same way I’m unbothered by how he’s smiling down at me.

Anastasia Unbothered Allen.

“What happened?” I ask, keeping the conversation moving so I don’t have time to spiral.

He brings his glass to his lips, smirking as he sips. “It turns out people from Washington aren’t very friendly.”

“A vicious lie, Hawkins. We’re famously very friendly.”

He shrugs, still smirking. “I will need you to show me because I’m struggling to believe you.”

“Prepare to be amazed.”

“I’m already amazed by you, Anastasia,” he says, winking. With that, he steps around me and heads over to the booth.

What just happened?