Page 31

CHAPTER 31

RIVER

This is not happening .

After dreaming about Nate for years, he finally wants me. I can’t ignore how my pulse pounds whenever he enters a room. He has an instant effect on me and knows it.

Nate uses my desire against me.

So when he calls, I keep running and let it go to voicemail. I don’t want to talk about how his confession changed our friendship. We can’t take back what we said or the fact we almost kissed. I pulled away because kissing was too personal. My heart won’t recover if I allow him to touch me like that until he’s sure about us.

I could lose him over sex, and it’s just not worth it. The thought of him fucking a woman turns my stomach because it will happen eventually. Even if he allowed himself to be with me, Nate would not be satisfied. He loves having sex with women.

I will never be enough.

On the south side of campus, I stop running and sit on a bench when my phone rings, cutting off the music blasting through my earbuds. I expect it to be Nate, but it’s my dad.

He never calls this late.

I raise the phone to my ear. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

“Can’t a father just call to say hello to his son?” he says in the same deep pitch as mine.

I snort. “Hi. How’s Mom?”

“She misses you. So do I.”

As a child, I wanted to be like him in every way. I busted my ass on and off the ice to impress him, to follow in his footsteps. All of the ignorant gay comments have pushed me away.

Since my father’s berating at the beach house, I barely speak to him. What’s there to say to a man who told me to stop doing gay things ? He’s such an asshole. I can’t even think about him without getting angry.

“You’re playing the best season of your career,” Dad says. “Coach Marten sent me clips from your last game. Without you, this team wouldn’t have consecutive Frozen Four championships. I’m proud of you, River.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

While I’m not his biggest fan anymore, knowing I’m on the right path still feels good. That all of the shit I sacrificed for hockey was worth it.

“I have good news,” he tells me. “Several teams are interested in signing you. I spoke to Mickey tonight. He wants to arrange for you to meet each team and let them present their offers in person.”

“I’m in the middle of a semester,” I point out since he seems to have his head jammed up his ass. “I can’t withdraw my enrollment and abandon my team mid-season.”

“You can. I already spoke to your coach and the dean.”

“I’m not bailing now,” I snap. “We’re close to our fourth consecutive Frozen Four win, and I graduate in May. This is important to me.”

I also hate the idea of leaving Nate. I would have joined the NHL years ago if it weren’t for him.

“River, stop acting like a child. This is real life. College can wait. You’re never going to use a law degree.”

“Just because you dropped out after your freshman year doesn’t mean it will work out the same for me.”

“You’re in your prime,” he fires back. “Right now, you have teams looking at you. This won’t last forever. When an opportunity presents itself, you have to grab it. You can’t keep turning down these teams and think they’ll come running back whenever you’re ready. It doesn’t work that way. Grow up, River.”

My skin burns from his harsh words. While he might be right, he could get his point across without being such an asshole.

“Fine,” I say, taking a long, irritated breath. “Set it up for when I come home for Thanksgiving.”

Nate will flip out, which is why I won’t tell him. Knowing I could leave him sooner than expected will send him into a downward spiral.

My dad sighs in relief and says, “Hold on a sec. Your mom wants to talk to you.”

A second later, my mother says, “Rivie. Hey, baby.”

I smile. “Hey, Momma. I miss you.”

“Miss you, too. How are you doing? I know you’ve been busy with school and hockey… but you can’t be too busy for me.”

“Sorry,” I say in a hushed tone. “I didn’t mean to be so distant. I just… have a lot going on right now. But I’ll see you soon for the holidays.”

“Yeah, you will. I can’t wait. I’m making all of your Thanksgiving favorites.”

“Sounds good.”

My dad mutters something in the background.

“Oh,” she says, “your dad has something else to say. But I love you, Rivie.”

“Love you, too, Momma.”

My dad takes the phone from her and clears his throat. “There’s one more thing. Harold flagged an unusual transaction on your credit card from a club called Glitter.”

Fuck.

“Do you know anything about it?”

I can’t breathe. My heart claws out of my chest, pounding my rib cage. “No, never heard of it.”

“Someone charged two thousand dollars. When Harold looked into this place, he learned it’s a gay club.”

When he says gay, it sounds like a dirty word falling from his tongue. Like it pains him to say it. He’s now Catholic and holier than thou—forgetting that he used to gang-bang puck bunnies before marrying my mom. No amount of holy water and Communion can wash away his dirty sins.

Hypocrite .

I choke out a laugh. “Yeah, right. Like I would be caught dead at a place like that. Someone must have stolen my credit card number.”

Dad pauses as if he wants to question me further, but he says, “I’ll cancel your credit card and send a replacement. Be careful who you give your information to.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

After we hang up, I wipe the sweat from my brow.

Fuck, that was close .

* * *

To clear my head, I run until my soles burn. By the time I head back to campus, it’s almost midnight.

The first floor of the house is dark. I’m shocked no one is downstairs playing video games or getting drunk. That’s a relief. Someone is always awake in this house.

I creep upstairs and flick on the light in my bedroom. To my surprise, Nate is lying in my bed, face down and sleeping on my pillow.

Fuck .

I thought I’d made myself clear. I guess not. He seems to be taking rejection worse than a girl.

How long did he wait for me?

I strip to my boxer briefs, turn off the light, and get into bed, staying on my respective side. This will be awkward in the morning, but I don’t care. Our friendship is already in a weird place.

Nate rolls over, breathing in my ear, his arm slung over my stomach. I whisper his name, but he doesn’t wake up. Eyes closed, he presses his nose to my cheek, using my shoulder as his pillow.

Fuck .

I don’t want to move him.

If he wakes, he’ll want to talk about us—not like there is an us . Since his confession, I have avoided him like a plague. I don’t know how to defuse the situation without giving Nate what he wants.

He’s not gay.

He’s not bisexual.

Sex is his way of controlling me. And if I give in to him, I risk losing my best friend and my heart.