“Get outta your head,” Brodie says when he unbuckles his seat belt.
“I can’t stop seeing it,” I say as the ice cracking beneath Erin rings out in my ears.
“It was an accident, Chase.”
My life seems to be full of those lately.
“Come on. She wants to see you. You’re not as pretty when you’re mopey.” Brodie smirks and steps out of his car. I fall in line behind him and watch him knock.
“Hey, come in,” Bella says, her tone light and inviting when she opens the door. We step inside, and I avert my eyes. Guilt and shame flood my veins for what I let happen to her sister.
“She’s in her room,” Bella says with a head gesture when I don’t move.
My stomach twists into knots. Her kindness feels wrong. Her gentle smile and calm posture show me she doesn’t blame me for what happened, but it doesn’t mean I don’t.
Upstairs, one door is open. I find Erin sitting up in bed under the comforter, more blankets on top, wearing teddy pajamas with a book in her hand. The lamp shows off the healthy hue of skin as if the chilly water never touched her.
“Hey,” I say, hovering in the doorway.
She looks up, a tender look in her eyes. “You won’t get frostbite if you come closer, you know.”
I frown.
“Too soon?” she teases.
My steps are slow as I walk over to her and sink onto the edge of the bed. “I should have been there.”
“You were.” Her hand covers mine and the heat from her skin surges through me, pushing away the memory of her icy skin that had settled there earlier.
“I never would have taken you out there… If I…”
She reaches for her face and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. That’s when my eyes catch the stitches above the tail end of her eyebrow.
My hand cups her cheek.
“Fuck, I’m so?—”
Her arms slip around my neck, silencing my apology. I breathe in her shampoo and essence.
She’s here. She’s okay. She’s alive.
When she detangles herself, her eyes are sparkling and there’s that dimple again, staring at me.
“You don’t seem mad,” I murmur, my brows pinching.
“Why would I be?”
I blink at her. “You hit your head, fell through the ice, and…”
“Chase, do you realize that you skated?” She radiates joy as if it’s a miracle and I’m somehow cured.
I pause.
She’s right.
I did skate.
A heavy pressure forms in the pit of my stomach, and I realize it’s more than just skating that’s making me feel this way. I was on the ice, and I didn’t seize, choke, or panic.
