Page 140 of Thin Ice

“It’s been on the tip of my tongue, and I know it’s been on Quinn’s.”

“And Noah’s?”

“He said he cares about me.”

“He loves you. He never stopped loving you.”

“You say that like it’s a fact.”

She taps on her temple with her finger before placing it on her heart. “I both see and feel it. It was obvious to me even before they left the retreat.”

“Then why is he dragging his feet?”

“The same reason you aren’t in Seattle talking to them about this in person or why you haven’t asked me if there are opportunities for work closer to them. You know I love rainy states just as much as I love the desert. I’d easily be able to fill a retreat there, and yet you haven’t ever brought it up.”

“Hazel—”

“Fear, Beck,” she interjects. “It’s fear.”

A raven lands near the pool’s edge and lets out a loud caw, drawing my attention. I stare at the obsidian bird, remembering Noah wondering if it was a bad omen. I grip the envelope in my hands—it’s pliable and not very heavy.

The bird cocks its head, one dark eye meeting mine. I think of what I told Noah, that ravens have long been symbols of transformation, wisdom, magic, and prophecy. That they herald change, not necessarily loss.

The bird seems to look down at the item in my hand before he caws and flies away to join his friends.

Hazel touches my shoulder. “Remember what I told you before they left the retreat?”

I nod.

“That stands. You’ve come too far in your life to let fear decide your fate now. And I meant what I said: Don’t sell yourself or what you offer them as a partner short, no matter what happens.”

“Thanks, Hazel.”

She stands, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders more tightly. “Open it, Beck. Maybe it has the answers you’re looking for inside it.”

“Intuition or…?”

“…a feeling.” She walks a few steps before stopping a few feet away. “Oh, and text me later when you’re safely in Seattle.”

She giggles and leaves before I can argue. The ravens make their chatter again, and I release a big exhale, sitting up on the lounger to open the envelope. My phone pings, but I ignore it, knowing if I look at it now, I’ll lose my nerve.

I rip it open and pull out the item.

A magazine?

I flip it over, and my heart stops in my chest. It’s a special issue of Elite Sports Monthly, the biggest magazine in the athletic world, and Noah is on the cover. His beard and hair are freshly trimmed and perfectly styled, and he’s wearing his Stormbreakers jersey and smiling at the camera. My chest aches at how handsome he is. I touch his jaw like I’ll be able to feel the coarse hair of his beard under my fingers.

I drift my touch up to the cover headline, pulse skyrocketing as I read it:

Noah Ashcroft Is Done Walking on Thin Ice

“Holy shit.” I continue reading the smaller cover teasers.

The Stormbreakers Center Is Speaking His Truth and Coming Out…

“It’s time the world knows I’m bi and in a poly relationship.”

“Holy shit,” I mutter again before I flip the pages like a man possessed, palms sweating. There’s a full spread of him inside, more pictures of him in his hockey gear and one where he has a small bi flag painted on his cheek, the lights of the rink highlighting the planes of his masculine features dramatically.