Page 26

26

Jake

I jolt awake to an empty bed, my stomach knotting before my mind catches up. For a second, I think Piper’s in the bathroom or raiding the kitchen. But the silence of the house tells me she’s long gone.

The sheets beside me are cool, barely rumpled, like she left deliberately, making sure I wouldn’t notice. That sits wrong. I scrub a hand over my face, exhaling sharply.

Flashes of last night hit me—her hesitant confession, the way she clung to me, the raw trust in her eyes. She gave me something huge, something she’d never given anyone. And now she’s gone without a word.

I grab my phone. No messages from her. One missed call from Blake, another from Blaze. Probably about practice. I wasn’t sure I’d go, but maybe hitting the ice will clear my head.

On my way out, I fire off another quick text: Morning. What’s up?

No reply.

***

The rink is buzzing when I get there, junior players finishing up their drills. I scan the ice and spot Blaze’s obnoxiously pink stick tape near center. He and Blake wave me over, both wearing matching we’re about to grill you expressions.

“Dude,” Blaze calls. “You finally decided to show up?”

“Had some things to handle,” I mutter, setting down my bag.

Blake raises an eyebrow. “Things named Piper?”

I shoot him a glare. “You guys have no boundaries.”

Blaze grins. “Not when our big brother is acting weird .”

I lace up my skates, ignoring them. “Not much to tell.”

Blaze nudges Blake. “He’s holding out.”

Blake, always the rational twin, studies me. “You sure about that?”

I exhale, debating. If I say nothing, they’ll push harder. “She left this morning. No text, no nothing.”

Blaze whistles low. “Damn. That’s rough.”

“Also…” I hesitate, swallowing. “It was her first time.”

Blake blinks. Blaze exhales. “Whoa.”

“Yeah,” I say grimly.

Blake nods. “So, she’s freaked out.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. I just know she’s pulling away.”

Blaze leans on his stick. “Savannah ran, too, remember? Thought she’d ruined everything. I had to show her she hadn’t.”

“She’s not Savannah.”

“No, but scared is scared.” He shrugs. “If she’s running, maybe she needs a reason to stop.”

A whistle blows, signaling our ice time. Blake drops a puck. “Let’s skate it off.”

*

The cool air steadies me, the scrape of blades against ice a welcome distraction. We start a casual scrimmage with some local guys. For a while, it works—passing, checking, skating hard enough to burn off frustration.

Blaze is quick, weaving through defenses. I feint left, stealing the puck, but Blake intercepts, lining up a clean shot. We hustle, sweat, let the boards rattle. For thirty minutes, I forget.

Then exhaustion sets in, and with it, the weight of reality.

We skate to a stop, leaning on our sticks.

“Feel better?” Blake asks.

I shrug. “Still pissed at the world.”

Blaze chuckles. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, love doesn’t follow logic.”

I roll my eyes. “Blaze, you do everything without logic.”

“Exactly. And look how well that worked out for me.” He grins. “If you know, you know.”

I mutter, “I don’t know anything yet.”

Blaze tilts his head. “Then maybe it’s time to figure it out.”

The words stick.

As we skate off, one thought loops in my head: She’s slipping away, and I don’t know how to stop it.

*

After we shower and change, the three of us exit the rink to find a small gathering in the lobby: a few local kids, starry-eyed at the sight of “real hockey players.” One boy, maybe ten, rushes up, brandishing a tattered stick.

“Jake! Blaze! Blake! Can I, uh, have an autograph?”

Blaze beams. “Sure thing, bud.” He kneels, taking the marker. Blake nods politely, and I muster a smile.

We scribble our signatures, the kid going on about hoping to play pro one day. I can’t help thinking about the kids’ game Piper and I plan to attend. If she’s avoiding me, how’s that going to go?

A small voice pipes up. “Jake?” Another kid, younger, maybe seven, hugs a battered hockey puck to his chest. “Is it true you used to play in the minors?”

I squat down to his eye level. “Yeah, I did for a while. You play, too?”

He nods, big eyes shining. “I’m not that good yet, but I’m trying real hard.”

I sign the puck, ruffling his hair. “Stick with it. Hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard. Got it?”

He grins. “Got it, sir!” Then he darts off to join his friends.

Blaze nudges me. “Kids love you, man. You sure you’re not going soft?”

I glare, though inside, something warms at the thought. “Shut up.”

Blake lifts a brow. “Speaking of kids, what’s up with Violet?”

Right. I tug my phone from my pocket. “She’s with Annie and India, but yeah, I’ll see if everything’s okay.” I dial, stepping away from the chatter. Annie picks up on the third ring, letting me know Violet’s in the barn helping brush down a pony. I exhale in relief and ask if I can swing by. Annie chuckles, telling me to come on over.

I wrap up the call and wave at my brothers. “I’m out. Gonna see my little girl.”

Blaze gives me a mock salute. “Later, lover boy.”

Blake just shakes his head, lips curving. “Go fix your mood. And everything else.”

***

The drive back to the ranch is quiet, but my mind is anything but. Piper is burned into me—her wide, dazed eyes last night, the way she gasped my name like it was the only thing holding her together. The way her nails dug into my back when she came beneath me, her body tightening around mine like she never wanted to let go.

I grip the wheel tighter, jaw clenched. She wanted me—no doubt about that. But now she’s running, and I don’t know why. Everything in me is wound tight, instinct screaming at me to storm over to her Airbnb, press her against the door, and make her say whatever the hell is on her mind. Make her face what we both know this is.

But that won’t work. I can’t push her—no matter how much I want to. No matter how much I ache to remind her exactly what we were last night. If I chase her too hard, she’ll disappear completely. And that? That’s not an option.

Pulling up to Annie’s place, I spot the barn doors open, warm light spilling out. Inside, Violet is perched on a stool, brushing a small chestnut pony, her tongue peeking out in concentration. Her lopsided pigtails make my chest tighten.

“There’s my girl,” I call softly.

She lights up, dropping the brush and racing over. “Daddy!” She throws her arms around my waist, and I scoop her up, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The tension in my chest eases for the first time all day.

India, Annie’s granddaughter, waves from the other side of the stall. I wave back before setting Violet down. “Good morning.”

“Afternoon,” Violet says, giggling. “Pancakes! Fed horses! India braid hair.”

“Sounds productive.” I ruffle her hair, making her wrinkle her nose. “You having fun?”

“You take me home now?”

“If you’re ready. Or do you want more time with India?” Part of me needs time with her after the morning I’ve had.

Violet hesitates, glancing at the pony. “I stay more? Big horse later!”

“Sure.” I ignore the pang of disappointment. “I’ll stick around.”

She beams. “Help me? Hair is hard!”

I kneel beside her as she chatters about braiding techniques and the pony’s twitchy impatience. It’s easy to focus on her, but guilt prods at me. I haven’t told her much about Piper beyond that we’ve been spending time together. She’s asked if Piper’s my girlfriend, and I brushed it off. Maybe that was a mistake.

Annie returns, her wide-brimmed hat shading her face. “Hey there, Jake. Mind helping me unload some feed?”

“Yeah, of course.”

We head outside. She lowers the tailgate, hoisting a bag. I grab the next one, stacking them beside the barn. After a few minutes, she wipes her hands on her jeans, watching me closely.

“You look tired. Everything okay?”

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my neck. “Long night. And morning.”

Her expression softens. “It’s about Piper, isn’t it?”

I stiffen. “What makes you say that?”

“I see how you look at her.” She tilts her head. “Something happen?”

I exhale, debating how much to share. “We… had a moment last night.” That’s putting it mildly. “And this morning, she was gone. No text, no goodbye.”

Annie pats my arm. “Did something scare her?”

“Yeah.” My voice is tight. “I just don’t know what.”

“She’s figuring things out,” Annie says gently. “Give her space, but don’t let her drift so far she thinks she can’t come back.”

I nod, the weight in my chest sinking deeper. I’ll try.

***

After Violet’s ride, we head home. She chatters about horses and braiding, but my thoughts keep drifting to Piper. If she’s still shutting me out.

Once we’re inside, Violet settles with her coloring books. I check my phone—nothing from Piper. My stomach clenches. I wasn’t expecting an apology, but some acknowledgment that last night meant something? That’d be nice.

I thumb out a text: Hey. Hope you’re okay. Let me know if you want to talk.

I hesitate, then hit send. Frustrated, I toss my phone onto the couch, running a hand through my hair.

Violet glances up. “Daddy mad?”

I force a smile. “Nah, kiddo. Just… grown-up stuff.”

She nods like she understands. “Annie say grown-ups silly.”

A dry chuckle escapes me. “She’s got a point.”

Violet hums, focused on coloring a pink unicorn. Watching her, my chest tightens. It’s always been me and her. Could it be us —me, her, and Piper? The thought unsettles me. Last night changed everything. I can’t ignore that.

I grab my phone, checking again. Nothing. With a groan, I slump into a chair, rubbing my temples. Blaze’s words echo in my head: If you know, you know. Maybe she needs you to be all in.

But how do you prove you’re all in when she’s already pulling away?

“Daddy?” Violet asks, looking up. “Pie-puh come?”

The question hits me square in the chest. “I… don’t know, baby.”

She frowns. “I like Pie-puh.”

I force a smile. “Me too.” The words feel heavier than they should. “We’ll see what happens, okay?”

Violet nods and returns to her unicorn.

I pick up my phone again, staring at the screen. Still nothing. With a deep breath, I set it facedown, trying not to obsess. But no matter what I do, the same thought circles my mind once again—

She’s slipping away, and I don’t know how to stop it.