Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“For Kitty’s birthday, I want you two to skate a short program for her. Make a huge deal of it. Decorate the rink in all the pink you can think of and then ease her soul. I know she’s hurting, I know she needs this, and if we’re all honest, you two could benefit from it too. Please, give me this one last request. Love you both, Phillip.”
Jami lays the letter on her lap, and all I can do is blink.
Beside me, Fable’s voice breaks as she says, “Kitty’s birthday is in three months.”
“I haven’t worn figure skates in twenty years.”
“I haven’t skated pairs in the same amount of time.”
Neither have I. “Would we even have enough time to make this happen?”
She’s silent for a moment as I gaze at her profile, obsessed with how her top lip turns up when she’s deep in thought. “It’s muscle memory. We could, but it won’t be easy.”
What would her parents say?
“It only matters what I think.”
Her words still have my heart beating out of its regular cadence. How did she know I needed those words? And now that I have them, I swear I feel a fire under my ass to make her mine. Phillip is right, and it took that letter to remind me of how we started.
How we thrived.
Together.
I want to give her the kind of love that Phillip gave Kitty.
She turns to me, our eyes locking as our chests rise and fall rapidly. I can see it in her eyes, her brain working overtime about how to make this happen. She wants this. The realization hits me out of nowhere, but her need to do this for her grandparents is shining in her green depths. As I get lost in them, I feel the urge to do whatever I can to make this happen.
Not for Phillip or even Kitty.
For us.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Fable
Between my uncontrollable need for Jett and my grandfather’s letter, I find myself in the only place I can think.
The west rink.
Yellowcard’s “Ocean Avenue” blares through my speaker as I skate with no cares about what I should be doing.
I probably should have gone home to pack. I’d told Kitty I was going to do that once I talked to Jett. I knew he wouldn’t mind me moving in to one of the free apartments, but I hadn’t expected him to be quite so agreeable. I thought I’d have to talk him into it like I’ve been doing with everything lately. He proved me wrong, though, and instantly agreed.
He knows how awful my mom can be, but what really bothers me is how concerned he was with what my parents want. He was upset, but it felt like he was used to it, which makes no sense to me. Have they told him to stay away from me? I wouldn’t put it past them, and I’m not a fan of how that makes me feel.
Honestly, it’s not a surprise that he wanted to help me get away from her.
But it is surprising how close he came to kissing me again. I move my hand up to my jaw, to my lip, rubbing the spot where his thumb was. Just like his palm, the pad of his finger was warm against my skin, and I welcomed the touch. So much so, I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips. God, I wanted him to kiss me. So badly, even if it scares the living hell out of me. It’s disheartening that we’ve been interrupted twice now, but maybe that’s because it’s supposed to be some epic kiss.
Maybe after we skate…together…for Kitty.
Instead of a kiss on my nose, I’ll be rewarded with the lips I crave so badly.
Can I wait that long?
I want it, but I’m scared of it.
Why am I the way I am?
As I skate backward, I feel like sobbing, and I don’t know why. Is it the letter and how genuine it was? How I want nothing more than to ease Kitty’s soul once more. Take away the pain I know she is feeling at the loss of the love of her life. I’m not saying that Jett is the love of my life, but it hurt when he walked away. It broke a part of me that I don’t think ever fully mended.
Jett.
What am I doing? I am so caught up in these feelings I haven’t felt before that I’m not seeing the bigger picture. I will be leaving in a year; everyone knows it. I’ll be the one walking away from him if I allow something to start between us. I don’t want him to feel that kind of pain. It was torture, the what-ifs, the why wasn’t I enough? But then, would I walk away?
What if I stayed here with him and we built a life? We could run the Ice Thistle together and… And, what? Would he want me until he doesn’t? Until I’m too much and it’s more of a hassle to deal with me than to be with me? What if all these feelings really are a fluke and I can’t give him what he needs?