Page 83 of Ruthless Blade

The side door swung open and slammed shut with a violent thud. I ignored it, knowing it was probably someone else getting ready to practice since the rink was about to open.

“You’re on my ice, Mouse!” A deep voice called out.

My skates skidded to a stop, flecks of ice going up in the air, when the rest of my body froze.

No, it couldn’t be. Could it? Kayden?

I turned, and there he was. The world’s most perfect specimen, his blue gaze held a dangerous glint, one that told me I’d be in trouble for crossing him. He didn’t have skates on, but he walked towards the center of the ice, where I was standing, with a plain shirt and gray sweats. His blonde hair was a mess, and I wanted so badly to run my fingers through it.

I titled my head to the side, "Excuse me?"

"The rink, it’s mine. I've been skating here since freshman year. You're cutting into my personal practice time." A smirk lifted on his lips; one I wanted to kiss right off.

I glared, “Kayden.”

"Lexi,” he mocked, and it reminded me of when we were younger. I miss those days.

I crossed my arms over my chest, which made my ribs complain, and that annoyed me even more. "What do you want? Why are you here?" I paused, because underneath the irritation was something genuine. "Congratulations, by the way."

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Thank you."

He came to a stop a few feet in front of me and the smirk faded into a frown. "I'm not staying," he said. "I came to clean out my locker. Pick up the last of my stuff from the equipment room." He rubbed the back of his neck, "The flight leaves tomorrow morning."

Tomorrow. Fuck, tomorrow?

No, no, no. I thought we had more time. I pushed him away and now he was going to be gone, forever. Fuck. What did I do?

"Oh,” my stomach churned.

He looked at me, but didn’t say a word. As if he was waiting for me to say something. Anything. But I couldn't. I didn't know what to say or how to feel.

"I saw you out here and couldn't leave without saying something," he said. "I tried to talk myself out of it. Told myself you needed space, which you do. But I’d rather have you be mad at me than wondering if I was going to come back at all.”

Butterflies, tingles, whatever it was flooded my system. It was so much easier when I hated him. When I didn’t love him.

"I love you,” and hearing those words again for the second time, did something to me. His eyes were intense, never breaking contact with mine.

Why can’t I say it to him? Why can’t I say it out loud?

“As much as I want you to, you don’t need me. You’re healing all on your own, and that’s something I can’t take away from you.”

My heart is literally breaking. Is this all there is for us? Are we going to be one of those love stories that don’t have a happy ending?

I let out a shaky breath. Why did this feel like a break up? Fuck, I wanted to pull out my hair.

I looked down at the ice between us. You can do this, be brave. You can fucking do this. Don’t let him go.

"I'm in therapy," I confessed, not knowing how he would take it.

"Really?” His voice went up a pitch, and I knew he was surprised but I still refused to look at him.

"I'm not going to put that on pause for anyone. Not even you."

"I'd never ask you to, Lex." God, I love it when he says my name like that.

"The distance...it’s going to suck, but...but I want to try.” I said, looking up at him.

His eyes widened, “You’re serious?”