My mind drifts to the bar hallway, Wes walking toward me until my back hit the wall. His intense brown eyes tracing over my face as he said,Useme, Isla. That command in the deep scratch of his voice unraveled the knot of tension in my core. I can’t stop thinking about how he let me ride his thigh for as long as I needed to come. I’ve never been with someone so focused on meeting my needs, and for it to bethisman…
“Really?” Spencer gives me a round-eyed expression.
“It's blowing off steam,” I insist. “It's nothing.”
But as the words leave my lips, I’m not sure it’s the truth. It’s hard to separate the Wes I now know from the one I met when I was a kid. That version of him has lingered in my mind, going dormant for years before his admission made the memories resurface. And now I can’t forget them.
“We don't like each other,” I try to deflect again, and again, it falls flat.
“Like I haven't said that one before.”
I roll my eyes and offer the dazzling response of, “Whatever.”
Spencer’s hands land on my shoulders, turning me to face him. “Be careful with him. Casual isn't something he's done before. So promise me you'll walk away if he's getting too attached before it breaks his heart, all right?”
“Right. Wes Davidson, heartbroken.” I pretend to look skyward as if a scene is playing out before my eyes. “I can see it. Oh, wait, no, that’s hell freezing over.”
“Oh, Isla, you've got him all wrong. I need you to do what's best for him because he never knows how to do it for himself.”
The words stop me dead in my tracks. This is Wes’s brother. Of course he knows him better than I do.
I stare at my right skate, drawing a circular pattern on the ice. “Sorry for being flippant, but it’s shocking that you think I could hurt him.”
“That’s because you don't know my brother. But I guess that will change, huh?” Spencer’s lips slip into a shit-eating grin, fueled with annoying brother energy the likes of which rivals Brooks.
My palms land on my face. “Oh, my God.”
“Hey, you made that choice,” Spencer teases me, his words coated in laughter. “And I'm not judging you, really.”
I drop my hands from my face and take off sprinting toward him. He erupts into laughter while he skates away from me. I catch him as he approaches the curve at one end of the rink. My arms wrap around his middle, and we glide into the boards, both of us out of breath and laughing.
“Hey.”
Wes’s voice sends my stomach into a spin, which goes into overdrive once I spot him. He’s about ten feet from us, further down the boards, hands in the pouch of his gray Palmer City Wolves hockey sweatshirt. There’s an expression on his face that I can’t read as he looks on at our absurdity.
“Brother!” Spencer shouts as we disentangle ourselves.
I pretend to fuss with my clothes to avoid looking at Wes.
“Did you forget what sport you’re practicing?” There’s an unexpected iciness to Wes’s tone.
Spencer knocks into my shoulder. “I think he’s intimidated by our moves.”
I huff out a laugh. “Doubtful.”
“Isla, do you have a second?” The gentle way Wes asks the question causes my stomach to flutter. He doesn’t talk like this to me.
I finally look up at him, and immediately regret it. His gaze bores into mine, reminiscent of the way he stared at me last night. “Um, sure, yeah.”
“Right. I’ll let y’all have your moment,” Spencer says in the most awkward way possible. He skates one stride toward me and leans in. “I’ve never seen my brother this jealous before.”
I hold up a warning finger to Spencer. “Do. Not. Start.”
“Havefun,” he sings, laughing loudly as he retreats away from us.
“What was that about?” Wes asks as he walks toward where I’m standing in the corner of the rink.
I consider lying, but it’s not as if Spencer would suddenly rein it in. Wes will realize at some point that Spencer knows all about us. “Apparently, we’re the talk of the town.”
