Page 54 of Ice Queen

“You can’t say stuff like that.” The pain in her voice wraps around my neck, squeezing until my breath stutters.

“Why?” I croak.

“Because I’ll fall, and you won’t be there to catch me.” Her admission is so quiet I almost think I made it up.

I sit stunned for a second before I give her shoulders a small squeeze. “You don’t want to fall for a guy like me. Everyone who gets close ends up getting hurt.” But hell, if I don’t want to lean in and kiss all her problems away.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asks, and as I start to tell her not to worry about it, a little thought sneaks into my mind.

A better you would share this with someone other than your therapist.

I sigh, moving a bit, wrapping my arms around the outside of my thighs, and letting my hands clasp in front of them. “You know, when I told you about my mom’s friends and how they never made it here?”

She nods.

“Thirteen years ago, I was in a plane crash that killed them. My best friend and her parents, who were my parents’ best friends.”

She gasps, her hand covering her mouth, eyes instantly filling with tears, and damn it. This is why I don’t talk about it. I hate seeing pity written on people’s faces. I don’t want pity. I want to be free of the pain it brings me.

“I was the only one who survived. It’s the main reason I don’t let people get too close. I don’t know that I deserve to have that kind of connection again. I wasn’t enough to save them.”

Her hands fall to her lap, reaching for the hem of her shirt, she folds it back and forth between her fingers. “But you let your teammates in,” she whispers.

I let out a watery chuckle. “Have you met Monroe? The man doesn’t take no for an answer. The rest of them don’t really either. But you’re right. They’re my family.”

“But you don’t want to let me in? Or is it women in general?”

My fingers squeeze against the back of my hands. I’d love nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and jump in with two feet, but she’s been through enough. This version of her is strong, she’s standing on her own two feet and killing it at that. I can’t be responsible for her downfall.

“I don’t want to bring you into my darkness. You deserve so much more than me.”

“How would you know what I deserve?” she retorts.

I have so many things to say to that, but none of them want to form on my tongue. My heart hammers in my chest as I realize the biggest concern is not being able to save her if a situation should arise.

I really don’t know how to stop trying to be the hero. But right now, I’m asking myself what that might cost me? My team. Kait. My job. Is it worth it to have to be that guy? Do I even know how to be anything else? Am I capable of just letting life happen without trying to control perceived threats when it comes to the people I care about?

“Markus,” she whispers. Her eyes trail over my face before settling on my lips. “Be reckless with me for a second.”

My eyes slowly close, and I lean in, my lips almost to hers, before the logical part of my brain wins out. “I can’t, Kait.” Pulling away, I shake my head, inhaling deeply before I look up at her.

Her eyes fill with tears, and I feel like the world's biggest asshole, but it’s better that this happens now than later. Right?

Doing what I do best, I rise from the ground, my knees and legs aching in protest. I grab a few beers before I offer her my hand and head back inside. She doesn’t take it, but follows behind me, using me as a shield once we step through the door. I don’t know whether she knows she’s doing it or not, but I don’t mention it.

“Your coach is a freaking ass, Sammy,” Abby says, popping a French fry in her mouth. “I don’t know how he got hired.”

I hum, not wanting to talk crap about anyone in front of Kaitlyn. But she’s not wrong. “Stevens said something about Savannah calling in a favor, you know, being the big boss’s daughter and all.” I turn so Kait can be part of the conversation, too.

Wilson snorts. “I wonder if she knows how big a bonehead he is.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that he shows up, and all of a sudden I’m the face of a media circus, yet outside of the incident in Toronto, I haven’t done anything to warrant that?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

My teammates go silent, a few stopping with food halfway to their mouths. It’s Monroe who finally breaks the silence. “I didn’t even think about that, but there’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

“Does he have anything to do with your cut?” Kait asks.

When I look down at her, her eyes still glisten, but it’s not out of sadness anymore; it’s concern. I just pushed this woman away, yet here she is, concerned about my well-being. Something about that makes my heart beat a little steadier.