Page 92 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

Sydney’s tongue flicks out to lick the crumbs from her lips.

“Thanks for this,” she smiles, distracting me from thoughts of initiating another round. But I can give her body a little more rest—I’ve more than proven I can be patient.

“No problem. I’ll just take this back into the kitchen.”

I gather her plate and napkins, sweeping the crumbs from her crumpled sheets onto the plate.

“You’re the best,” she sighs, content with life as we know it before she burps adorably.

Her hand slaps over her mouth and she looks like she could die of embarrassment from such a normal physiological response. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Her dad must have really done a number on her if she thinks it’s not even okay to burp after eating.

I hate that guy.

“Pretty sure we’re well past the uncomfortable stage. You let me pee on you last night, I’m not about to be disgusted because you burped in front of me.”

“I— Yeah, y-you have a point,” she stutters. My laugh is hysterical before I peck a kiss to her lips and grab her discarded plate and fork. She’s fluffing her pillows to lie back down when I shut her door and head back to the kitchen.

“Hey, sir, we were told everything would be packed and ready to go when we got here but most of the boxes are empty and the kitchen isn’t even packed,” says one of the sons, his thumb jutting over his shoulder toward the island.

I look around and notice they’ve gotten the bigger items like her furniture and TV, but many of the boxes around the room remain empty.

“Uh, yeah. We . . . had a long night,” I mention, though I’m cautious not to divulge too much.

Everything that happened last night filters through my brain and I have to strain to keep my dick in check.

I clear my throat. “But, uh, look, how about I help you get everything packed while she rests a little more,” I offer.

“She could really use the sleep, and I want to avoid bothering her if we can.”

“Sure, the more the merrier,” he says. “Is the missus alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, just tired.” Truthfully, I’m tired as hell too, but had she not spent all night with me, this wouldn’t have happened, so I guess I kind of owe her one since she chose to be with me rather than getting this done.

Though, in my defense, she never mentioned she had movers coming.

I would have understood and helped her a lot sooner had I known. I’m not a total monster.

It’s a breeze when we pack her essential kitchen items. I’m working on the remaining books on her bookshelf when I find two manga comics hidden behind a stack of books. I’m beaming with pride to learn she really is an anime fan when she walks out wide-eyed and flustered.

“What’s going on?” she asks, through a yawn.

She’s running her naked body back inside the second she discovers we’re not alone. Luckily, only I catch her bare ass running away, so it’s easy to laugh at the embarrassing moment.

“Alright, boys, we’re making good time,” the older guy, Samson, rallies. “We just need to do the bedroom and then we should be loaded up and in Palm Springs by daybreak tomorrow.”

My hand freezes.

“Palm Springs?” I ask just as Sydney rejoins us, a robe tied around her this time.

She looks beautiful as always, but the look in her eyes cracks me in half.

“Lucien.”

The way she says my name sends a current of fear down my spine.

“Why is your stuff going to Palm Springs ?” I ask.

“Lucien, I need to talk to you.”

She’s approaching me like she did last night, palms up and steps wary, as though I’m the scared animal that’s about to bolt or attack.

Maybe I am.

“Sydney. Why is your stuff going to Palm Springs ?” I grit, no longer able to keep the rising frustration out of my voice.

“It’s . . . complicated. You know, it’s just . . . one of those things.” Her hands twist around each other, no longer sure of what to do with them since the surrender gesture has all but lost its effectiveness.

“One of what things?” I growl, taking a step toward her.

“Is everything alright, miss? Are you ready for us to pack your room next?” asks the younger of the sons, who’s staring at her robed chest like he’s wondering what’s underneath.

“Uh . . .” She hesitates to answer with our audience here.

“One of those things, ” I mutter, anger already pumping through my veins.

She looks at me, wary of what our next steps will be.

Turning away, she addresses the young man. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Um, alright, but your . . .”

“Everybody get the fuck out now !” I bark.

The guy stares at Sydney like her tits are going to tell him what to do.

“Now,” I growl, and they all scurry to go outside.

I’m pushing Sydney back inside the room before I even fully register my actions.

The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she falls against it, fighting with herself to either touch me or cower from me as she struggles to sit back up.

I’m pacing the room, trying to process everything and click all of the pieces together.

Her words and expressions from last night finally beginning to make sense.

“See you around . . .” “No . . . you won’t.”

“One last kiss . . .”

“A night to remember . . .”

“You’re leaving?” The words feel like hard rocks in my throat as I try to speak.

I grab at my hair and pull, hoping to feel pain anywhere else but in my chest as I pace back and forth.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand reaches out, but she pulls it back when she notices my pacing is not stopping.

“Lucien,” she starts. “Please just listen. My dad only funded my schooling because I made a deal with him that as long as I didn’t cause him any trouble and I won competitions, I could stay.

I told you he doesn’t like that I figure skate, but he’d been at least supporting me financially so long as I adhered to the agreement, but I haven’t been.

Not only did I not make qualifiers, but I was also disqualified from competing in Nationals.

I’m off the team, remember?” Her begging urges me to understand.

“So, the deal is off. After everything happened yesterday, he ordered me back home. I was to pack my things and transfer to a business program closer to home.”

“That’s too soon,” I shoot back. “No way he gets a school transfer ready in a few hours.”

She sighs. “I had a standing invitation. My dad’s friends with the dean so he was able to get me in.”

“So, say no!” I growl, frustrated with such a bullshit excuse when there’s an easy fix.

“It doesn’t work like that with my father,” she clips, her response automated.

“Why not?” I shout. Why is this perfectly capable, intelligent, fucking stubborn girl just rolling over and throwing us away?

“It just isn’t !” she shouts back.

It’s the first time she’s truly raised her voice at me. She sounds as panicked as I feel. I thought she feared me, but the fear in her eyes right now is intrinsic, made from the very marrow of her bones. She won’t defy him . . . not even for me. She’s going to leave me. I’m going to be alone again.

“So, what was that last night, huh?” I push. “Sharing secrets, giving confessions, and exposing truths. You just, what ? Wanted to tick one last thing off the bucket list before you snuck out in the morning and left me behind?”

“First of all,” she snaps, “this is my apartment. I wasn’t going to sneak anywhere. And second,” her voice softens, eyes glistening, “you said this was a game. It was entertainment for you, Lucien.”

Right, a game.

I snort a dejected laugh. I wasn’t stupid. I recognized that she was out of my league, lightyears beyond what I deserved. Sydney might not be an angel, but she is far better than me. Her strength is what forced my own walls to come down and accept her as someone I could trust to keep in my life.

But now she’s leaving.

“Yeah, well, all games have rules, right? And the rule was no running away, ” I grit.

I expect her to say something, to have some sort of snarky reply, but she doesn’t, she keeps her lips sealed.

Her full lips press together as she holds herself back from saying what she actually wants to.

It’s frustrating. This beautiful fucking girl frustrates the shit out of me.

Even with her robe coming undone and her hair a disheveled mess, she still looks perfect.

I don’t want to lose her.

“Don’t do this,” I plead. “Don’t leave.”

“I-I can’t,” she croaks.

Despair and helplessness snake around my ankles, feeling like they want to drag me under the floor.

“And I would never betray your trust,” she adds, promising my secrets are safe with her, but it’s not my secrets that worry me. She betrayed my heart.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t betray me, you just wouldn’t choose me, is that right?”

“I . . . I-I—”

“For once . . . tell me the truth .”

Her lips wobbles and her eyes slide close as if pained.

“I can’t choose you.”

Indignation erupts through me, and I explode, whatever rage people feared in me, is nothing compared to what I want to unleash upon her now.

“You’re not leaving me!” I push her down flat against the bed as I straddle her, the blade from my back pocket pointed at her chest. She’s ripping my heart out of my chest. I thought it was long gone, so it’s only fair I cut hers out as well. She cannot leave me. I only just got her.

In the middle of everything else, I’ve resolved that I might be losing the one thing that ever mattered to me.

I might be losing hockey the way Sydney was losing figure skating, and like her, I thought if I lost it that it would suck, but at least I would have her in the end.

She would be my shining light in the dark.

She would be worth the loss, but she’s leaving me to be alone again with nothing and no one.

She belongs to me, and she can’t leave with my heart while hers still beats in her chest.

Tears fill her eyes, but it’s only when one drops onto her cheek that I realize it’s me who’s crying.