Page 15

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Jett

My unhealthy obsession with watching Fable on the west rink camera actually pays off when I see my so-called friend hugging her. I was in the middle of changing when Dean wrapped his arms around her. Unlike most women when it comes to Dean Moore, Fable didn’t seem very interested in the hug. Though, she never seems interested in anyone. I’ve watched guys try to talk to her, but she either looks away or just walks off. She only ever looks me in the eye, but she hasn’t smiled for me like she just did for Dean. The smile she flashed him made me want to agree to all her insane ideas just to be on the receiving end of her grin. It was real, and it was for him.

Yup, don’t like that at all.

Before I could even register that I was only in socks and shorts, I was down the stairs and through the west rink doors to find Dean with his hands still on her. Never in my life have I wanted to tear my friend’s arm off and beat him with the bloodied end.

But that’s exactly how I feel.

Even after teasing Fable, I want to beat the fuck for touching her.

The mention of nipples has her cheeks and neck bright red, while her plump lips press together so hard they’re white. She shifts on her skates, and my grin grows.

Does my girl need some friction between those thick thighs?

I force myself to look away, shaking my head in the frustration that only Fable Winthrop brings me.

The past two weeks have been hell. I have spent an ungodly amount of time looking at the photo she sent out to announce her coaching for just a glimpse of what I think I saw. I have racked my brain trying to figure out if I made it up, but I know what I saw. I need her to admit it. Not only do her nipples keep me awake at night, but so does the rest of her. I toss and turn until it’s time to get up and face her each morning. We spend hours going through her damn file and arguing about what she wants. Are her suggestions bad? Not at all, they’re great, but I just can’t seem to let go of my pride.

Plus, I love arguing with her.

She’s so passionate, and all I want is for her to channel that passion into me. I want her to look at me with those heated eyes as she takes my cock down her throat. I want her to ride me like she wants to break me in half, and fuck, I’d let her. She’s just too damn perfect. Since the moment I met her, I knew she was special, and even now, after twenty years, nothing has changed.

Fable is the girl of my dreams.

As I gaze down at her, Fable’s eyes are dark and trained only on me. It’s like we’re the only two on this rink, and I wish I could touch her like Dean did. I just want to feel her beneath my palms.

When she checked out my chest, I wanted to step closer to give her a better look at my ink. She was always intrigued by the tattoos my grandma had since she was a tattoo artist. But back then, tattoos were so against what the Winthrops believed in that Fable knew she couldn’t get one. It blows me away that she has her thighs done. I want to know how many she has, what prompted her to get them, and if I can see them up close.

With my mouth.

Fuck, I’m gone for this woman.

“Fable is going to train Skyye.”

Shit, I forgot Dean was here.

I swallow hard, cupping the back of my neck as I nod. “Great. We need more skaters.”

I meet his knowing gaze, and the bastard is trying not to laugh at me. “Maybe if the place didn’t look like shit, you’d get more attention.”

I glare over at Fable, and she gives me a knowing look. “See?”

“She put you up to this?” I ask, hooking a thumb toward her, and Dean’s brows furrow.

“No, we all know this rink is the redheaded stepchild of the Thistle,” he says with a laugh. “What, she wants to fix it?”

“Full-ass overhaul of it,” I snap, and she sends me a smug grin.

“And I’m right.”

I roll my eyes as Dean agrees, “It needs to be done.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter gruffly.

“But you also need to get out into the community, Fable.” I glance over to find her looking at him, perplexed. “You haven’t been out in town since you arrived. The only time people see you is at the Belles’ games, and even then, you’re not approachable.”

“She’s plenty approachable,” I defend, not liking what he’s saying one bit. It’s not her fault she’s here. She doesn’t want to get out, and I understand that. It overwhelms her. She has to be someone she’s not, and I hate that for her.

I feel her gaze on me, and when I look over, she stands a bit taller as something moves in her eyes. I don’t know what it is, but before I can even name it, she says, “I was actually thinking of going to businesses to ask if they wanted to buy ad space here.”

Another idea that I shot down. Dean seems to like it, though. “I think that’s a great idea. I heard Noelle talking about getting some ad space the other day when I was in there.” He looks at his watch. “Actually, if you head up there now, you’ll be in the middle of rush hour. Get your face out there.”

Instantly, she freezes up and swallows. The only time she doesn’t think before she acts is when she’s on the ice. She has to prepare to go out, to see people, and I really want to kick Dean’s ass for putting her on the spot. Breathlessly, she says, “Yeah, maybe I will.”

I watch as her fingers cross and uncross. I know if she were sitting down, her leg would be bouncing. “I’ll come with you.”

She whips her head toward me. “Huh?”

“I’ll go with you. Only makes sense since we’re doing this together.”

Her brows rise. “You don’t want to sell ad space.”

I shrug. “Maybe y’all are right. We need to do some upgrades.”

She blinks, completely caught off guard, and Dean slaps me on the back. “You do,” he tells me, shaking his head. “Now, Fable, can I get your number so we can talk about private lessons and everything?”

Nope, don’t like that. “No. You can message her through the app like everyone else.”

He looks at me blankly, and I feel her scrutinizing gaze. “She isn’t on there.”

“She will be today,” I announce, needing to remember to text my IT kid to get it done.

Dean rolls his eyes. “What are your rates?”

Fable waves him off. “We can discuss that later.”

I give her a look. “Her prices will be up there too.”

She flashes me an annoyed look, but Dean just laughs. “All right, JT.”

“I’m going to go change. Meet you in the lobby in ten.”

Before she can disagree or even fight me on it, I head out of the rink.

But with each step I take, I wonder if Dean got the message.

That Fable is mine.

My ice princess is a bundle of nerves as we step into Noelle’s Nibbles. It’s a cute little Christmas-themed bakery that sells specialty baked goods and coffees. It’s designed to look like Whoville, with bright Christmas colors and four fully decorated Christmas trees. Each tree sports a different theme, Harry Potter, the Grinch, the Nightmare Before Christmas, and then a Smoky Mountain Christmas. I’m not a big fan of the holiday, but even I can’t deny how magical it feels in here. Staying true to her name, Noelle Matthews is Ms. Christmas.

As Dean said, it’s packed with everyone getting their morning snacks and coffee. When we enter, it’s as if a record skips and everyone’s gazes fall on Fable. She tenses up under their scrutiny, and I watch as a stoic look moves across her face. She stands a bit taller, swallowing hard, and her shoulders hunch in.

I hate that.

Unable to resist, I place my hand on the small of her back. It fits perfectly above her ass, and I want to shift down a bit to grab ahold of one cheek. She looks up at me wide-eyed, and I’m instantly lost in her green gaze. I flash her a reassuring smile. “You’re good.”

It’s not a question; it’s a promise.

Gratitude fills her gaze, and we head to the front counter. I don’t move my hand as we wait our turn. I can feel everyone watching, but my eyes are on her. She looks around, plastering a fake smile that she got from her mother on her face. It isn’t until we get to the front counter that a real smile takes over her expression.

Because Noelle is beaming at her childhood friend.

Noelle Matthews is a gorgeous woman. She’s a year younger than us, with dark-brown hair and sweet caramel eyes. She’s on the thicker side, and I mean, if I worked in a bakery, I would be too. She has such a kind, sunshiny demeanor to her, and you can’t help but smile when you’re in her presence.

Noelle squeaks loudly when she sees Fable before coming around the counter to wrap her arms around her. Unlike when Fable hugged Dean, she doesn’t tense up. Instead, I watch as her body relaxes, and like the Grinch’s heart did, mine grows a bit at the sight.

“Fable! It’s so good to see you,” Noelle says into Fable’s hair. “I was starting to think I’d have to come to a game to see you.”

Fable’s lyrical laugh hits me in the gut as she pulls back. “I know. I’m so sorry. It’s been a rough couple weeks.”

Noelle’s face falls. “I know. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Fable squeezes Noelle’s wrists. “Thank you. And look at this place. It’s everything you wanted!”

Noelle beams as she falls into boss-lady mode and tells Fable everything about the bakery. She shows us all the baked goods, the snacks her team hand-makes, and then her favorite coffees. She’s so animated, and I appreciate how it eases Fable’s nerves from earlier. Everyone is still watching, but no one is looking at her like a pariah. Instead, I see smiles and happy looks while the two friends catch up. Of course, Fable is hanging on every word Noelle says, completely oblivious to everyone around her.

Even me, which I’m not really a fan of.

“This is all so darn cool. Listen, you have a line. We’ll order and go sit down. I want to talk to you about ad space at the Thistle. Dean mentioned you were in the market.”

Noelle’s eyes light up. “Oh my God, yes. I’ve been asking this big lug for space forever!” She punches me in the bicep, and I wince.

“Ouch, that’s not very Christmassy of you.”

She ignores me. “With all the travel hockey, I am missing out on a lot of sales.”

Fable shoots me a dirty look. “Exactly.”

I grin sheepishly. “You know I’d hate to take your money, Noelle.”

She laughs. “Can’t make money if you don’t spend some.”

Fable holds out her hand to her. “I was just saying that this morning!”

I sigh deeply as Noelle snickers. “Things are going well?”

“As well as a deer’s antlers stuck in barbwire,” Fable says, and I wince.

I mean, I don’t think things are that bad.

Noelle laughs and then takes our order, after promising to come see us when it dies down a bit. Once we sit down, Fable is bringing up her files on her phone to be ready. She already has a price list made and details of what we’ll offer.

“I guess we’re doing it.”

She gives me a duh look. “Yes. Like I said, this can bring in more money to use for the west rink.”

Her drive is sexy as fuck. How can I say no to her? Why am I saying no to her? She wants to help, she wants to make this place better, and we could do it. Together. I swallow my pride, which isn’t easy, and nod. “Fine, maybe we should hash everything out again.”

She pulls her brows together. “For you to say no again?”

I rub the back of my neck. “No. Maybe I’m seeing things through new eyes.”

She holds my gaze, her eyes searching mine. “I’m gonna make everything I want happen.”

I can’t help but smile at that. “I have no doubt, princess.”

I assume she’ll look away, but she doesn’t. Heat moves in those moss-green depths, leaving my mouth dry and my hands itching to reach out for her again. She bites into her cheek before shyly saying, “Thanks for coming with me.”

When I only nod—since telling her there is nowhere else I want to be would pop the little bubble we’re in—she looks back down to her phone. I watch her for a moment as she types quickly, her brain unloading through her thumbs. I need her attention, so I say, “I called Derick. He’s updating your profile on the website. Unfortunately, I had to send the picture you wanted since I don’t have the other.”

She looks up at me through her lashes. “Oh poo.”

I smirk. “Also, don’t lower your prices for anyone here. You’re worth every cent.”

Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but I see the way her pupils dilate at my words. “How did you know I was going to lower my prices?”

“Because I know you.”

The words hang heavy between us, and she doesn’t deny my statement. Instead, she rolls her lips, looking so damn beautiful it’s unfair. I wish this were a date…or a lazy morning between lovers. Instead, she’s my partner once more, and I hate that title.

Because it’s not the context I want.

Her lips part, and I almost think she’s going to say something snarky, but the waitress interrupts us by bringing over our food and coffee. We both got a cinnamon reindeer latte, and while I ordered a pesto chicken wrap, she chose bacon-egg bites with a honey bun. She finally puts down her phone to dig in, and I watch as she enjoys her food. This blissful look comes over her face that I’ve only ever seen when we were skating, and it blows my mind that food is bringing her that happiness. Back then, she never enjoyed food; it was just fuel. But now, I can tell she’s enjoying it.

And I’m enjoying her.