We fall silent again, but it’s different now. I find myself wanting to keep talking, to hear more of her memories, to share more of mine. There’s something about the ice, about the intimacy of skating side by side, that makes it easy to open up in ways I normally wouldn’t.
“You know what else is weird?” I say after a moment. “How easy this is. Talking to you.”
She turns her head to look at me, her expression equal parts surprised and pleased. “It is.” She stops skating and stares at me. “And I really can’t believe you were the one to carry me off the field. How you remember so much about me.”
I remember everything about Sydney Holt, even the things I pretended not to notice. Like how she used to smell like strawberries and cream, and now it’s vanilla lavender and something floral. How she hums under her breath when she’s concentrating.
“Sometimes I was paying more attention than I should’ve been.” My admission makes me feel exposed, raw.
The air between us shifts, charged with something unnamed but undeniable. Sydney takes a half step closer, her eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my pulse jump.
“Brooks...”
I can’t take another second of this, and I’ve been fighting it like hell, but I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my life. I lean in, and we’re nose to nose, her lips the shade of muted pink in the cold. God, if our second kiss is anything like our first, I’ll have her beautiful body in bed and writhing under me in record time.
And now we won’t have Jonah to stop us.
And just like that, panic floods my system. Sex with Sydney is so far over the line we won’t be able to see it anymore. And it won’t be like a one-night stand. It will mean something. It will meaneverything.
She’s too close. This is too real. I’m telling her things I’ve never told anyone, feeling things I can’t afford to feel. Not with all the things that are hanging over my head. Not with my career in jeopardy. Not with the promise I made to Jonah.
I need to shut this down. Now.
I lean away. “Remember the time Jonah and I crashed your slumber party?” My voice is too loud in the quiet evening air.
Sydney blinks, thrown by the sudden change of topic. “What?”
“Your junior year. I was a senior. You had all those girls over—what were their names? Megan? Morgan?”
“Melissa and Morgan.” Wariness creeps into her expression. “Why are you bringing that up?”
I force a grin, the one I know irritates her. “Just remembering good times. Jonah and I were so wasted. Your dad was furious.”
The warmth in her eyes cools rapidly. “Yeah, I remember. You puked in my mom’s favorite potted plant.”
“Come on, it was kind of funny. The look on your face when we climbed through that window—”
“It wasn’t funny,” she cuts me off. “It was humiliating. My friends never wanted to stay over again because they thought my brother and his drunk buddy might show up anytime.”
I should stop. I know I should stop. But I need this barrier between us, need to kill whatever moment we were having.
“We were just having fun,” I say with a deliberately casual shrug. “Not our fault you and your friends were so uptight.”
Her eyes narrow. “Uptight? My friends trusted me, and you guys destroyed that. I had to earn it back over months.”
“It was high school, Syd. Everyone did stupid shit.”
“That’s your excuse? ‘Everyone did it’?” She pushes away from me, skating backward a few feet. “You know what? This is exactly why we never got along. You don’t take responsibility for how your actions affect other people.”
The accusation stings precisely because there’s truth in it. But I lean into the pain, use it to fuel the fire I’m deliberately starting.
“Oh, and you’re so perfect? Miss Goody Two-Shoes, who never broke a rule?”
“I never said I was perfect.” Her voice echoes across the empty lake. “But at least I apologize when I hurt someone.”
“Fine. I’m sorry your slumber party got ruined. There. Happy now?” My tone makes it clear I’m not sorry at all.
Sydney’s face hardens, a transformation I’ve seen many times over the years. The open, vulnerable woman from moments ago disappears behind a wall of anger and hurt.
