Icebreaker: Chapter 27

FOR SOMETHING DESIGNED to make you feel better, positive affirmations fucking suck. They aren’t working. I don’t feel any more positive. I don’t feel any more affirmed. Why do I bother?

Moving behind me so his body looms over mine, Nate’s hands hold my waist tightly, the heat of his fingers searing the skin of my exposed stomach. Keeping his body close to mine, his mouth finds my ear, whispering. “You ready for this, Allen?”

My heart is ready to beat out of my chest, thoughts in irreparable chaos. It’s been weeks, and I don’t know if I’m ready. No. I know I’m not. I don’t want to.

“Three, two, one…”

“No!” Gripping his wrists, it doesn’t take much to pull him off me. “No, I can’t!”

Letting me go, he allows me to skate away, shaking off the uncomfortable prickling tension at the bottom of my neck. This is getting ridiculous, and I know that. I can feel his frustration when I stop him before he lifts me. He never takes it out on me, he never says anything, but I know it’s there.

Nate skates off in the opposite direction, hands on his hips, catching his breath. “Nate, I’m sorry!” I shout for what feels like the millionth team.

He glides toward me, and I want to cave to my instincts. Let him scoop me up, carry me away, and shower me in affection. I want to wrap myself around him and let him whisper promises into my skin about how he’ll never let me down.

Two hands capture my face, lightly tilting my head back. I want him to bend down and kiss me, but he won’t because I’ve told him he can’t.

Another thing to be angry with myself over.

“Why don’t you trust me?” His tone is soft, which only makes this harder. “Stas, I’m not going to drop you.”

“I…” I don’t have an answer for him. Every time the anxiety swirls in the pit of my stomach, I can’t breathe. We’ve been practicing in the gym and I know he can pick me up, but for some reason, being out here doing it for real is just too much. “I do trust you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Moving toward Brady, she’s wearing her signature look of irritation. “You two need to work this out. Anastasia, if you want to be a pair skater, you need to be able to work with a pair.”

She’s saying it like that knowledge isn’t my current obsession. “I know, Coach.”

“The longer you let this fear rule you, the more you suffer. Work it out and work it out quickly.”

Holding back the tears, Nate and I step off the ice and put our guards on. The worst bit is I’m having so much fun training with Nathan, and now that he’s used to his skates, he’s learning quickly.

Even though he’s here to help me, I’m weirdly proud when he nails a jump. Don’t get me wrong, he’s landed on his ass a hundred times, each time funnier than the last, but now if he’s on the floor, he knocks my legs out from under me when I try to help him up, catching me in his lap.

My love for skating has been revitalized and he’s a massive part of that. He drapes an arm across my shoulders as we walk toward the locker rooms. “We’re going to do it. I’ll make a plan. We’ll get through it together.”

Stopping in his tracks, I follow his eye line to the last person I was expecting to see. “Aaron, what’re you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” His eyes float to Nate, and his posture stiffens. “Alone.”

“Absolutely not,” Nate snaps.

“Nathan…” The last thing I need is a brawl. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Aaron.”

“Don’t say anything then,” he says softly. “Just listen and then I’ll go.”

Nate’s arm tightens around me, and I dislike the feeling of being stuck between them. This is the longest Aaron and I haven’t talked; it’s not because I’m not desperate to hear him say something that helps me make sense of this, it’s because I’m sick of being his verbal punching bag.

“Let me get changed first,” I tell him. “I’ll meet you in the office in a couple of minutes.”

“Anastasia,” Nathan says firmly, and I can sense his anxiety, but I can’t avoid Aaron forever.

Squeezing the hand resting on my shoulder, I attempt to reassure him. “I’ll be fine, and it won’t take long.”

Heading into the locker rooms, my mood immediately improves when I can hear a few of the younger skaters gossiping before their practice.

“He’s so freaking hot.”

“He’s the captain of the hockey team.”

“What a lucky bitch.”

“They’re so hooking up behind Aubrey’s back.”

“I heard he’s the one who messed up Aaron.”

“I thought she was with the basketball guy?”

“Good, Aaron’s a creep.”

“No, I follow him, and he’s always posting about a blond girl called Olivia.”

“They definitely are. I bet Aubrey has already guessed.”

“I’d risk her wrath if he looked at me like that. Did you hear he had to put on shorts because of how big his d—”

“Girls?” I say, trying not to laugh. “Coach Brady is waiting for you all.”

It’s so quiet you’d be able to hear a pin drop. There isn’t another peep out of them as they all walk past me looking horrified.

Part of me is in no rush to get changed, dreading facing Aaron. The other part of me wants to get it over with. Nathan is waiting for me when I finally drag myself from the locker room.

“I don’t like this,” is the first thing he says. His hand cups my cheek softly, and I can’t stop myself from leaning into its warmth. “I want you to make your own choices, but please remember you don’t owe him anything. Don’t let him guilt you.”

“Wait for me in the car?”

He nods, leaning forward, changing his mind again and leaning back, then finally committing and kissing my forehead quickly before heading toward the exit.

The walk to the office feels twice as long, knowing who’s waiting, but I face the music anyway, pushing the door open.

Aaron’s sitting at the table, his bad wrist strapped to his chest, making it look extra serious. Closing the door behind me, I take a seat opposite him, concentrating on my breathing.

“I’ve wanted to come here for weeks,” he says quietly, staring at his free hand resting on the table. “But I was angry at you, and it wouldn’t have been good for either of us.”

I’m surprised my jaw doesn’t hit the floor. Aaron has practically hounded me, begging me to move back home, but apparently, he was angry at me? “What could you possibly be angry at me about?”

“Are you kidding me? You move out without telling me, and you move in with the guy responsible for me not being able to skate?”

My jaw ticks as I fight to stay calm. “He says he had nothing to do with it.”

“You’d believe anything he tells you. That’s your problem, Stassie.” He scoffs, looking me dead in the face. “You’re naïve. You make out that you’re Ms. Positive, and you want to communicate, but it’s all bullshit. You’re just a liar.”

Is this a fever dream? There’s no way I’m hearing this right. I don’t know what to address first. I should walk out and never talk to him again, but unfortunately, I can’t. “If you’re going to sit and attack me, I will leave.”

“I’m not attacking you. I want to talk. I want to sort things out between us.”

“How can you not hear you’re attacking me? You’re mad at me for moving out, but you told me to fuck off.” I’m trying not to let him get under my skin, but my brain wants to scream, and my heart wants to cry. “I’ve been undereating, Aaron. I’ve been at a higher risk of injury for months, and you’re the one with the problem? I trusted you!”

“You are so fucking dramatic. Why are you acting like I’ve been starving you?” He groans loudly, looking to the ceiling, then back to me. “I thought it was fine! You’ve never complained and you’re an adult, Anastasia. You can eat more if you’re hungry! How is it my fault you don’t listen to your own body?”

“Oh, and have you remind me I have an outfit to fit into? Or have you groan when you lift me?”

“So, I’m a bad guy because I keep you accountable?”

“It isn’t accountability, Aaron, it’s obsession! You care too much about what I’m doing and whom I’m doing it with.” My voice breaks, and I hate it. I hate that he can tell what he’s doing to me. “You want to control me, and you’re destroying our friendship, our partnership!”

“When are you coming home?” he says abruptly. “I miss you.”

His change of direction gives me whiplash and it reminds me that deep down, Aaron’s lost. “I can’t come home until you properly understand what you’ve done, and I believe you will change.” Standing from my seat, I sling my purse over my shoulder. “I can’t trust you right now, Aaron. But we’re paired together whether we like it or not, so I’m going to need to be able to navigate this somehow.”

He nods, face blank. “I know you believe anything he tells you, but why would I purposely put you at a greater risk of injury, Anastasia?” Sighing, he lets his shoulder sag. “If you don’t believe I care about you, fine. But you know I care about myself, so why would I risk my own goals if you ended up with an injury?”

If this wasn’t such a miserable situation, what he said might be funny. He isn’t wrong; the number one thing Aaron Carlisle cares about is himself. “I don’t know why you do a lot of the things you do. But it doesn’t mean you don’t do them.”

“I didn’t like watching you skating with someone else. I do want to fix this, Stas. I promise.”

“I believe you, but right now your promise isn’t enough.”

WHEN I CLIMBED into Nathan’s car earlier, bursting with too much adrenaline, I asked him if he felt like doing something irresponsible.

Throwing a party the week before finals start is my version of irresponsible, as is playing drinking games with a man a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than me. To even our odds, Nate’s drink is twice as strong as mine, not that he’s noticed. Luckily for me, the game of choice is Never Have I Ever, and it turns out Nate has spent quite a lot of his time at college gaining new experiences.

Mattie clears his throat to get everyone’s attention for his turn. “Never have I ever…accidentally called Faulkner while I was having sex.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Nate mutters, lifting his drink to his lips. He doesn’t bother looking at me. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Okay, okay.” JJ rubs his hands together. “Never have I ever…left the club with an older woman,” several of the guys lift their cups, stopping when JJ asks them to wait, “then found out I’d also hooked up with her daughter when I saw the family pictures on the wall the next morning.”

Nathan curses under his breath, shaking his head at his best friend as he lifts his cup to his mouth again.

“Oh my God!” My jaw might as well be on the floor, Sabrina is cackling beside me, and Jaiden looks incredibly happy with himself. It’s my turn, and I can’t think of anything as outrageous as the guys have, but I have one thing that I know will make him drink. “Never have I ever…fallen out of a ski lift.”

Nate snorts, lifting his cup straight away. Beside him, Robbie drinks too.

“You as well?” I laugh when he nods, wincing as he swallows his drink. Sabrina made that one, so God knows how strong it is.

“Yeah, the little shit dragged me with him.”

The game continues, and naturally, the guys use it as a way to air each other’s indiscretions. Sabrina and I move away to catch up on the day’s events, and after an hour of us swapping theories and basically straight-up bitching about Aaron, I track Nate down.

I find him in the den, totally ignoring two girls trying to talk to him. As soon as I approach, he pulls me into his lap and buries his head in my neck. “Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”

“With Brin. How can you miss me? You see me every day.”

Not bothering to answer my question, I feel him nibble my ear. “I can’t remember why I’m not allowed to kiss you anymore, but I really, really want to.” He’s so drunk his words are slurring, but I can’t remember either. “You’re so pretty, Stassie.”

Spinning in his lap to face him, his groan lets me know that wasn’t the best decision. He places his hand on my face and pouts. “We do sex so well. Come on, I’ll remind you.”

I’m taking him to bed, but it’s certainly not going to be for that. “Come on, drunk boy.”

It’s like trying to control a very rowdy toddler as I navigate him up the stairs. Crashing into his room, Nathan instantly strips off, throwing his clothes around haphazardly. While I’m picking up his clothes, I hear the shower start, and moments later, a very loud, off-key rendition of “Last Christmas” echoes over the sound of running water.

He appears minutes later, smelling strongly of honey and strawberry, so I know he’s used my shampoo. The towel is hanging loosely from his hips, droplets of water running down his solid chest.

Jesus Christ.

Not caring that he’s dripping wet, he stomps across the room, stopping in front of me. “Wanna do the no-pants dance with me?”

“No. I want you to get into bed and go to sleep.”

He looks genuinely shocked. “Why not?”

Pushing him to the bed, he flops down, not landing anywhere that even resembles a normal sleeping position. “Why do you think?”

Thinking on it, the realization kicks in. “You’re drunk, and I’m sober, so that means…” he sings, making an X with his arms. “No naked sleepover.”

Not fully accurate, but the important parts are right. “Bingo. Lie properly, please.”

Ignoring me, he yawns and closes his eyes. “Drunk people can’t give consent, Stas.”

“That’s right, bub,” I pant, lifting his alarmingly heavy legs to try to maneuver him. “Nate, can you he—okay, you’re asleep. Great.”

Brin’s nose scrunches when I rejoin her downstairs. “Why do you look so sweaty?”

“Nathan’s drunk and heavy.”

“Have you realized you’re falling in love with him yet?”

“I’ve known him two minutes, Sabrina. I’m not falling in love, we’re not even dating,” I say back, looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody is around listening.

“It’s been nearly three months and you’ve lived together for nearly one of them. I think that sorta makes the dating thing redundant.”

It’s been an hour of Sabrina giving me shit and making wedding suggestions, and she suddenly squeaks, making me jump. “I forgot to tell you because I was rushing! Aaron is hooking up with Kitty Vincent!”

I feel like one of those cartoon characters when their eyes spring out of their head. “Say you’re joking right now.”

“I would never joke about something so horrific. I saw it with my own eyes. Unrelated, but when you move home, we need to burn the couch. Rosie is still the sweetest, but Kitty is worse. So, so much worse.”

Kitty was our friend freshman year, and we were getting to know Rosie, her roommate too. Rosie is the daughter of Simone, my boss, and it was Rosie who recommended me for the job.

As Sabrina said, Rosie was sweet, but Kitty was a nasty, conceited bitch, and that’s not something I call another woman lightly. Scientists should study their friendship because it’s been two years and I still don’t understand it.

Annoyingly, they live in our building, so we see them sometimes, and we can’t get to know Rosie better and avoid Kitty because they’re inseparable.

Before I can process the information thrown at me by Brin, cheers erupt around us. Sabrina’s eyes widen, and her hand flies to her mouth as she does what can only be described as a scoff-snort hybrid.

Turning to search out the source of the chaos, I immediately spot Nathan pushing through the crowd in his boxers. His friends appear from the den, also searching for the cause of the noise, and all reach for their phones.

Nate is stomping across the room with purpose and I wish he were headed toward his friends.

I really, really wish he was going to them.

But he doesn’t; he stops right in front of me, lip pouting with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. “You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“Oh my God. Where are your clothes?”

“Come back to bed,” he whines loud enough for other people to hear. “No funny business. Just cuddle with me.”

“This is gold,” Sabrina says behind me and when I look over my shoulder, she has her phone out too.

The guys are all watching, and several are bent over laughing. One of them looks like they’re hyperventilating. Reluctantly letting Nathan drag me toward the stairs, I shoot them all the evils. “Thanks for your help, guys.”

“But you’re doing such a good job,” Robbie shouts back.

When we reach his room, Nate flops onto the bed, and I can see that he has decided to demolish our pillow barricade. He’s already snoring when I’m ready to crawl in beside him, but he still senses me there and pulls me closer to him.

After three weeks of pillow separation, being flush against him feels so freaking good. I don’t bother fighting to keep my eyes open.