“See you around,” he says, before closing it softly.
I turn the key and the car fires up. Izzy reaches over, lacing her fingers in mine as I pull back onto the road.
I make it past one house, then two. My eyes go to the rearview mirror, where Noah stands, watching me drive away, looking every bit like I’ve taken his heart with me.
And it’s funny, because I left mine with him too.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Noah
My knuckles are killing me, but I wouldn’t take a single one of my punches from yesterday back. Craig had it and more coming. He’s lucky he can even walk after what I witnessed. It took everything I had to stop swinging on him and not go back and finish the job after the girls left.
I squeeze the glass in my hand just thinking about it. I can’t believe that fuckwad. I can’t believe he would hurt my sister like that. I thought he was a good guy and would make Izzy happy. I was wrong. So fucking wrong.
The cidery should be buzzing with people today to set up for the wedding, but instead it’s empty. The lights are dimmed to almost nothing, and I’m sitting at the bar at nine in the morning with a pint of Glove Save in my hands.
I told myself it was just so I could rest my knuckles against the cool glass, but that’s a lie. It’s because I’m fucking sad.
I’m sad for Izzy, for my parents, and for them not getting to watch their daughter walk down the aisle today. I’m sad for the town that was looking forward to this, and I’m sad for Odette.
I’m also sadbecauseof Odette.
It about killed me yesterday when she pulled away from me. The last time I felt that bad was when I realized I was giving up hockey for good.
But hanging up my skates pales in comparison to how I feel right now—Odette-less.
She was never truly mine in the first place, but she damn sure felt like it.
She felt like it in the nights we spent together and the soft smile she sent me when nobody else was looking. She felt like it when she whispered my name into my ear anytime I made her feel good. She felt like mine with every confession uttered into a darkened room and every shared laugh over a bad joke.
She just felt like mine, and I still want her to be.
The worst part is that I understand the complete look of dejection on her face when she pulled away from me. I know why she shut me out. Everything she had worked toward for the last ten weeks blew up in her face. It was already supposed to be her last chance. I can’t imagine what that felt like for her.
But can’t she see I want to be there despite all that? Can’t she see I don’t give a shit about some curse? That I’m not afraid of it? And that all I want is to be with her?
I should have told her that and not let her walk away. I shouldn’t have agreed it was just fun or participated in her game of downplaying what was happening between us.
I should have stood up and told my truth.
But I didn’t.
And so here I am.
I lift the pint of Glove Save to my lips, taking way too big of a drink for it being so early.
“I thought I might find you here.”
I turn to find Izzy strolling through the doors of Stick Taps. I didn’t even hear her open them, so lost in my own thoughts.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as she strides across the bar.
Her eyes are puffy, and she looks like she slept for maybe a total of forty minutes. She looks terrible, which is kind of ironic given that she was supposed to look like a princess later this afternoon.
“Morning to you, too, Bubs.”
She settles on the stool next to me, laying her head on my shoulder with an exhausted sigh. I press my lips to her forehead. We’re not usually the touchy-feely kind of siblings, but today it feels warranted.
