Page 17

No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know what I want, except that I'm not ready for her to walk away again. "I just thought there would be more... hockey questions."

"I got what I needed," she says, but she doesn't move to pack up her things. "Unless there's something else you think I should include?"

I hesitate because I’m trying to find a reason to keep her here and am having a hard time coming up with one. "Maybe about the team dynamics? The relationship between offense and defense?"

"Alright. Tell me about that."

"It's...complicated." I fumble for words, suddenly aware I've created an opening I don't know how to fill. "The forwards get a lot of the glory, but defense wins championships. There’s this competitive edge that runs through all of us in numerous ways. What it all boils down to is that we have to trust each other completely and communicate. No matter what.”

"Like you and Knox?" Her question is pointed, and I know she's not just talking about hockey anymore.

"Something like that." I meet her gaze. "I would say we trust each other wholeheartedly. Sometimes the people closest to you are the hardest to communicate with."

"I wouldn't know about that." She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Communication has never been my issue."

It doesn’t take a million guesses to figure out what she’s referring to. "Maybe it's been mine," I admit quietly.

"That's...honest."

"You wanted real."

"I did." She fiddles with her pen. "I just didn't expect it to apply to...everything."

"It wasn't supposed to, but sometimes things just...spill over."

Her eyes flick up to mine, bright and intense. "Like that night?"

We both know exactly which night she means. "Yeah," I say, because there's no point in pretending otherwise. "Like that night."

"You never said anything. After."

"Neither did you."

"You pulled away," she reminds me, a hint of that familiar fire returning to her eyes. "Hard to say anything after that."

"I panicked. It wasn’t my finest moment."

"That's putting it mildly." Her words have bite, but there's something else there too. Hurt, maybe. "You kissed me like...like that, and then just—nothing. For years."

"It wasn't nothing," I say without thinking. "Not to me."

She stares at me and I wish I knew what she was thinking about. For a moment, I think she might get up and leave. Instead, she closes her notebook slowly.

"Then what was it?"

The question feels like a trap, but I'm tired of dodging. "Complicated."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the truth." I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. "You're Knox's sister. My best friend’s sibling. There are lines you shouldn’t cross."

This time she rolls her eyes and I see the fire growing within them. “Sounds like a bullshit excuse to me.”

"Is it?" I lean forward in my chair and allow my hands to hang between my legs. "You think Knox wouldn't have had something to say about it?"

"Knox doesn't control my life," she shoots back.

"No, but he's important to both of us." I move my hands and rub them against my jeans in an attempt to do something that would help me organize my thoughts. "And it wasn't just that. You were a freshman. I was a sophomore. The timing was?—"

"Spare me the logistics, Dalton." She raises her voice slightly and I know it’s only a matter of time before we begin to draw attention to ourselves in this quiet place.

She must sense it too because she looks around before she returns her gaze to me.

"If you weren't interested, you could have just said so instead of making me feel like I'd imagined the whole thing. "

"That's not?—"

My words die on my lips when her phone vibrates on the table. Willow breaks eye contact first, reaching for her device. She unlocks her phone and her expression shifts as she reads whatever's on the screen. A small smile appears on her face and for some reason, that has me concerned.

"Everything okay?" I ask, unable to help myself.

"Yeah," she says, still looking at her screen. "I got accepted into something."

The casual way she says it catches me off guard. Like she's both trying to share something important and pretend it doesn't matter all at once.

"Yeah? What is it?" I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

“You don’t need to worry about it.” She slips her phone into her pocket, already gathering her notebook and her bag. I’m sure that is her way of nicely telling me to mind my business, which is valid. “Anyway, thanks for taking the time to meet up with me.”

“It wasn’t a problem. If you need anything else, you know how to reach me.”

“That I do,” she says as she puts her coat back on. She struggles for a hot second and the urge to help her is strong, but I hold back because I know it won’t be welcomed.

She finally gets the coat on and I'm left to wonder what it is she got accepted to. It's clearly something that matters to her, based on that small smile. A job for the summer? Early graduate school program? A study abroad program for fall next year?

"Well," she says, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "See you around."

She turns to leave and this time I let her because I can’t find a reason that would get her to stay.