Page 100 of Hold Me Tight

My gaze jerks to Sloane. She’s watching me with a crease between her brows.

“Is everything okay?” she mouths.

I nod, but my head is spinning. “Are you saying someone paid off the loan for the bakery?”

“Yes.” There’s a pause. “You sound surprised.”

A nervous laugh escapes. “Yeah, I guess I am. Can you tell me who made the payment?”

The sound of keystrokes fills the line. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t have access to that information in the system. Only that the loan was paid in full.”

My pulse pounds in my ears. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Congratulations again. We really love when women business owners succeed.”

Even after the call ends, I can only stare at the phone in my hand.

“Well?” Sloane prompts, stepping closer. “Don’t leave me hanging. What happened?”

“That was the bank. My loan for the bakery has been paid off.” I swallow. “Completely.”

Her jaw drops. “You’re kidding! Who did that?”

I shake my head as one name drifts to the surface. “Maybe it was Zane? He stopped by the other day and offered to help.” Even as I push the words out, they feel wrong somehow. “I just can’t believe he came through for me in such a big way.”

Skepticism flashes in Sloane’s eyes. “Zane? You really think so? I hate to say it, but that man doesn’t have an altruistic bone in his body.”

“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree with you,” I admit. “But there isn’t any other explanation.”

Even as I say it, my thoughts start to spin.

Why would Zane pay off the bakery loan after years of letting me scrape by alone?

It feels like I’ve uncovered a version of my ex I don’t recognize.

Maybe one who’s finally trying to do the right thing.

36

River

The buzz of the crowd hums through the arena, a steady thrum of energy that vibrates beneath my skin. I push off from the boards, carving a slow loop around the ice, letting the movement settle in my limbs. Warm-ups are usually mindless. It’s all muscle memory, breath control while operating on autopilot.

But that’s not the case tonight.

Tonight feels different.

I’m not just skating against another team.

I’m skating against family.

“Hey!” a familiar voice calls out from behind me, smug and loud enough to carry over the music. “Try not to embarrass yourself out here, got it, Thompson?”

I glance over my shoulder and smirk. “Please. With your lineup? Shouldn’t you guys be playing in the AHL?”

Maverick skates up beside me, his grin sharp beneath the visor. “Says the guy we crushed last time.”

I scoff. “If you remember correctly, I was out with an injury. Wasn’t even on the ice.”