Page 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

victoria

W hen I left for Seattle two weeks ago, I decided it would be easiest to go without telling anyone. No hard goodbyes. No second-guessing. That’s what Leo wanted, right?

So when I return—for a mere twenty-four hours to collect a few skating costumes and Leo’s smile tally—I make it my goal to sneak past Delilah’s apartment and hope Big Bertha doesn’t out me with his super bird hearing.

When I fish for the key in my pocket, I fumble the bag I’m holding and drop the key on the floor. As I bend down, my forehead smacks the doorknob with a dull thud, sending pain through my skull. “Ow,” I moan, stepping backward.

A soft click of a door sounds behind me. “You’re not going to stop and say hi?” Delilah’s greeting makes my stomach jump into my throat.

I drop my bag to the floor and press a hand to my throbbing forehead, wincing in pain. “You could warn a girl before you sneak up on her.”

Delilah lifts an eyebrow. “You think I’m the sneaky one? After you just left that poor boy behind without saying goodbye?”

“Wait.” I drop my hand and stare at her. “How’d you know?”

She lifts an eyebrow. “How do you think?”

“Leo was here?” Something squeezes in my chest. I told myself I wouldn’t get choked up over him. It’s better this way—not seeing him, not wanting to stay.

“That boy looked downright heartbroken, like someone had sucked the life right out of him. I gave him a brownie, and it didn’t even help! When chocolate can’t even solve your problems, you know you’re in deep trouble.”

I try to ignore the balled-up emotion in my throat. He was here, looking for me.

Delilah props a hand on her hip. “Even Big Bertha went on a hunger strike!”

That doesn’t sound like Bertha. “Are you sure he just hasn’t had too many cheese puffs?”

“Okay, fine. We were stress eating while you were gone,” she says guiltily. “But I think Leo deserves an explanation from you.”

“He asked me to leave,” I say.

“Then why won’t you talk to him?” She tilts her head, waiting for an answer.

I sigh. “It’s complicated, Delilah.”

“Complicated?” Delilah huffs. “That’s all you got?” She folds her arms across her chest. “That boy is completely lost without you—he’s throwing himself into every game, playing harder than ever, doing everything he can to get noticed and traded to another team closer to you. For the first time, he’s not getting put in the sin bin because of his temper. Do you think that’s just a fluke?”

I frown. “You know what the sin bin is?” I’d have bet money that before she started watching the Crushers, she thought it was the clearance bin of steamy romance novels at the used bookstore.

“Course I do,” she says.

“He can’t leave the Crushers. He’s playing better than ever for them,” I admit, giving away the fact that I've been keeping up with his games since I left.

“He’s even making an effort with Tina. I encouraged them to talk, and for three hours, they unpacked the last thirty years of her life. It didn’t fix everything, but it was a start.” Delilah pauses and her gaze shifts over my shoulder, like she’s looking through my apartment door. “You can’t truly understand someone until you take the time to listen, and sometimes, listening to your own heart is the hardest part.”

I turn away from Delilah and force my key into the lock. “Well, we’re not going to see each other today, so if that’s what you’re suggesting, the answer is no.” I try to turn the key, but the lock sticks, just like it always has.

Why has this still not been fixed? I submitted the repair request months ago. I jiggle it a little but it still won’t budge.

“No, huh?” Delilah says. “You might want to reconsider.”

“I don’t have time,” I say over my shoulder, before leaning my weight into the door.

“Victoria . . .” she warns.

I dig my shoulder into the door. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

She can’t understand how fragile my heart is right now. One glance at him and all the tightly constructed walls I’ve put up will come crashing down in Olympic-record speed. I’m just not strong enough to resist him, especially when I’ve thought of him every single day since I left. It’s taken all my willpower not to send him any text messages, especially when those stopped too... like he just gave up on us.

I push on the door as hard as I can, and suddenly it gives way, crashing open. I stumble into my apartment, straight into the very solid arms of a man whose familiar scent I’d recognize anywhere... the same scent on the hoodie I wear to bed almost every night.

Leo.

“Victoria,” he murmurs, steadying me with his strong grip. What I expect to see are ice-blue eyes, cold with indifference. Instead, his gaze holds a wild desperation that makes my heart stumble as we lock eyes. His mouth tips up at the corner. “Didn’t think you’d literally fall for me the moment you came back.”

Behind the smile, Leo’s face looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks, his eyes lined with dark circles, his hair messily falling over one eye, like he’s ripped his hands through it dozens of times. He’s wearing a rumpled T-shirt that’s clearly been worn for days, but I barely notice. Or if I do, I just don’t care—because somehow, he still looks incredible to me. Like the sight of him alone is enough to take my breath away.

Oh, how I’ve missed him.

I step back, flustered. Walls up . “I didn’t fall into you on purpose.” The fact he can still make my whole body spark like a fireworks show is slightly maddening. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

“Delilah let me have the key,” he says, striding toward me, his gaze roving over me. “I’m only here between hockey practices and games because... I couldn’t stand the thought of missing you. I wanted to be the first person you saw when you came home.”

My heart lurches. “You’ve been waiting for two weeks?” I retreat a step for every one he takes.

He nods. “Two very long weeks.” Another step closer.

“Well, I’m not staying.” I stop, then brush past him because looking up into those blue pools is killing me. He’s the one who pushed me to go, so why is he making me feel like I’m the one at fault?

Leo grabs my arm gently, then nods to Delilah. “Excuse us, Delilah. I think Victoria and I need to have a talk.” He kicks the door closed with his foot, sealing us together in this apartment. Electricity zings through my traitorous body at his touch.

He’s not going to let me go until I talk? Fine. I’ll talk.

I wave at the door. “You know that won’t stop Delilah from listening in. She’ll just put a cup to the door.”

“Then let her, because what I have to say won’t take long. You just need to agree to stop avoiding me. Deal?”

“If I must,” I sigh, pulling my arm from his grip because it’s doing funny things to me, making me replay how those hands once stroked my back, my neck, my waist as his lips crashed into mine.

Dang it all, I’m doing it again! Thinking of Leo like nothing’s changed.

“What do you want to talk about?” I say, pretending the heat isn’t creeping up my neck.

“Why you left without telling me. Why you haven’t texted me. Why you won’t respond to my calls...” He stops and lifts an eyebrow. “Want me to go on?”

I cross my arms. “One question at a time, you impatient man.”

He plants his body between me and the door. “I’ve been waiting ever since you left. I even tallied the days you’ve been gone.” He holds up a piece of paper that looks suspiciously like my own secret smile tally with fewer marks. “Look familiar?”

I tip my chin up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He wheels around and grabs a piece of paper that I know all too well.

“Then tell me what this is.” He unfolds it so I see the tally marks stacked like a thousand shiny reasons why I’ve always loved him. “What is this?” He taps the paper.

“I was counting your...” My voice lowers and I barely mumble the last word. “ Smiles .”

“My what?” he asks like he didn’t hear me the first time.

“Smiles,” I say louder.

“Why?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t know.” I shrug.

He crosses his arms, not letting me get out of this.

“Okay, fine,” I say. “I like your smile! I live for making Ego, the grizzly hockey player, smile. It’s my guilty pleasure. Happy now?” I wheel around and try to storm into the kitchen, but he grabs my arm and retracts me like a yo-yo.

“I didn’t mean the tally marks, though I’m glad you told me.” A corner of his mouth curves, because he unwittingly made me confess a secret.

“Then what did you mean?” I ask.

“This.” He points to the bottom of the paper, where I scribbled the anonymous note to him that I left on the Crushers’ fan site.

I shake my head. “No clue who left that cringey note, but you'd better watch your back—they sound like a stalker.”

“Victoria,” he warns.

“Okay, I confess! I wrote it... in a moment of weakness.”

“A moment of weakness?” he asks, frowning.

I look away from him. “Yes. Now let me pack.”

“So was it a moment of weakness when you kissed me all those times too?” he asks.

“Definitely,” I say, attempting to circle around him, but that’s when I notice the empty takeout containers stacked on the counter, Leo’s clothes strewn about, and a pillow on the couch. It looks like squatters have taken over my apartment.

“Wait... are you sleeping here too?” I ask, turning back to him.

“I haven’t left, except for practices, games, and to check on Tina,” he says.

“Thought you’d had enough of me when we roomed together,” I say lightly.

He doesn’t blink, just holds my gaze. “I could never have enough of you, Victoria. After you left, I realized the only way I could hold on was by reminding myself that every day you were gone was a day closer to seeing you again.”

My mouth opens, but I don’t know what to say. Leo camped out in my apartment, tallied the days I was gone—all in an attempt to keep his hope alive that I would return?

My gaze falls to the black jacket I wore at the commercial shoot lying on his pillow. “I was looking for this.”

He grabs it from the couch. “It’s mine now.”

I frown. “Yours? Pro Ice Gear gave that to me after our photo shoot.” I reach for it, but he snatches it away, dangling it above my head.

“Yeah, but you conveniently took my favorite hoodie and jersey to Seattle. And now you’re wearing it.” His eyes slide down the hoodie, yes, the same one I slept in , and I feel like he’s burning up every inch of my skin with that scorching gaze. “So it’s only fair I get your jacket from the shoot.”

“But it doesn’t fit you,” I say, surging to my toes to snatch the sleeve.

He doesn’t let go, instead he pulls back on the jacket. “I don’t want to wear it.”

“Then what do you want it for?” We’re playing tug-of-war with my clothing, and I can tell by the set of his jaw, he’s not giving up easily.

“I wanted a piece of you,” he finally admits. “Because I missed every single thing about you.”

I drop the jacket and it snaps back toward him, hanging limply in his hands. There’s an awkward silence as his gaze holds mine.

It’s the same reason I stole his hoodie. The smell, the feel of it, every thread makes me feel like I’m with him. It’s my connection to him even when I’m away.

“You left without saying goodbye,” he says, the desperation lining his face. “Then you wouldn’t answer my texts.” He holds the jacket between us. “This was all I had of you.”

I shake my head. “You told me not to make it harder, so that’s what I was doing. I tried to forget about you... and throw myself into skating again.”

Right now, he has no idea how unsteady my heart is. One touch and the bars of the cage I’ve built around myself will tremble so hard they’ll crumble completely. I can’t forget why I came home—it wasn’t to stay. But, dang it , I wish it was.

“And... did you forget about me?” he asks slowly.

“No.” I shake my head softly. “I tried to. But then I kept watching your games. You’ve never played so well. That’s when I realized I could never forget about you. I’m not like you.”

He steps toward me and takes my shoulders gently. “You think I forgot about you after two weeks?”

“You did before,” I say quietly.

He shakes his head firmly. “I never forgot you. My heart would have to stop beating to forget you, and even then, I’m not sure it would.” His hand slides up my neck, to stroke the corner of my jaw. “It was wrong of me to force you to go instead of figuring it out together.”

His gaze holds mine—and there’s no pretending now. It’s just Leo. My Leo. Then he steps closer, and my heart slams against its cage, rattling the bars I swore would keep me safe.

“If you thought I forgot about you,” he says, “then I need to show you something.”

He turns to a side table and picks up a large white shoebox. “Open it.”

Inside is an old figure skate tied to one of his.

“Old skates?” I ask, slightly confused.

“And something else too.”

I pick up the skates and something flashes in the light, a gold band with a simple round diamond.

My heart stops. I shake my head slowly. “Is this from...”

His eyes are soft. “College. That’s the ring I was going to give you.”

My breath lodges in my throat. “When?”

“I was waiting for the right time after a big competition to remind you that some dreams were worth fighting for. Whether that was skating... or us . And then two weeks later, you broke things off.”

“Leo,” I gasp. “You kept this all this time?”

“Every time I tried to get rid of it, I couldn’t let it go,” he says. “I kept thinking that when it was the right time, I’d know—but it never happened. That’s why I didn’t want you going in my bedroom.”

I feel like the worst person in the world. Leo was going to propose to me, and instead I broke up with him.

I blink back the tears welling up in my eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

He smiles softly. “You needed proof that I never forgot about you.” He nods toward the skates. “That’s my proof.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I finally say in a shaky voice. “We could have been together so long ago. We didn’t have to be apart all this time.”

He removes the skates from my hands and sets them on the table. Then he clasps my hands in his, rubbing his thumb against my skin, every touch, a flame. “We weren’t ready for it back then. I was too ambitious and stubborn. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have been as understanding of sharing you with the world. I needed time to grow into the man who could love you the way you deserve.” He hesitates for a beat, skimming my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I was so scared that I’d lost you... again .”

“These last two weeks have been the worst of my life, Leo. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’ve basically been living in your clothes like some weirdo who doesn’t believe in owning a wardrobe.” I tug at the hem of his hoodie. “And I’ve missed your smile so much. Skating with Peter didn’t make me happy. Not even the thought of Nationals did. But being away from you— that made me see things clearly. Just because something was my dream once doesn’t mean it’s still the right one for me. Not when I’ve changed. Not when you’ve changed. And the only thing I know for sure now is that what I really want... is you . If you’ll have me back.”

His thumb stills. “ If? ” he murmurs under his breath. “Like there’s any question? You scared the crap out of me when you wouldn’t return my messages. Like I’d ruined the best thing in my life by making you go. Do you know what you mean to me? I need you, Victoria. I always have.”

Then he takes a step forward, and the cage around my heart shatters as his lips press against mine—needy and urgent, like a drowning man desperate for air. His hands wrap around me, pulling me into arms before he lifts me off the ground, still kissing me. Something in my chest spirals, wanting him closer, needing him this way. My fingers fist into his shirt, but he pulls away, his breathing ragged, and presses his forehead to mine as he sets me on the ground. His hands cut into my waist. “So is this a yes?” he asks. “We’ll make this work and you’ll stay?”

“Yes,” I answer with a smile. “As long as we agree not to hide this.” I reach for the skates and start untying the ring.

Leo shakes his head, grabbing the ring as it slips from the laces. “That’s not the way it works.”

“Why not?” I ask. “You’ve been holding on to it for this long. I’ve waited years for this. Years, Leo!”

He smirks, holding the ring just out of reach. “Oh, so now who’s impatient?”

“I’m not impatient,” I counter. “I’m proactive.”

He crosses his arms, taking a step back, the skates still dangling from his hand. “You’re not getting it until I’ve done this the right way.”

I scoff. “That ship has sailed, buddy. Hand it over.” I put out my hand. “You’re not ready to get this off your hands?”

“Nope.” He grins and rudely holds the skates out of reach. “I’ve waited this long. What’s a little longer?”

“Leo,” I warn, glaring at him.

His smirk tells me he’s not giving in. “If you think I’m handing over this ring without asking the most important question of my life, you don’t know me at all.” He leans down so his lips are barely an inch from mine. “You’re going to wait, my love . Because before you can claim this ring, there’s something I need to do first.”

“Pop the question? You know I’m going to say yes.”

He shakes his head. “Talk to your dad.”

“My dad?” I repeat. “You’ve already talked to him once, and it didn’t exactly go well!”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. If I’m going to put this ring on your finger, I’m going to do it knowing I’ve handled everything standing in our way. And your dad is part of that.”

“You’re asking for it,” I mutter even though my heart feels like it’s about to burst because I’m so proud of him.

“And you’re worth it,” he says with a smile, pressing one last kiss to my lips.

When the door swings open, Delilah stumbles backward in the hall, hiding the cup behind her back. “I was just...” She looks around, clearly caught.

“Eavesdropping?” Leo finishes for her, lifting a brow. “Yeah, we know.”

He turns back to me, leans in close, and brushes his lips against my ear. “You realize we’ve got a whole cheering section, right? Between the team, your girlfriends, all the people who love you...”

“But you’re the most important one,” I say.

He cups my cheek with one hand. “Then let me make it worth the wait.”

He leaves me with a devastating smile, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst from my chest. Because I don’t have to count smiles anymore. I’m going to rack them up for a lifetime.