“Finley,” Beckett calls after me. “You can’t go out in this.”
Wrong. Ishouldn’tgo out in this. It’s a literal blizzard outside. But there is a distinct difference between can’t and shouldn’t. I grew up in ice rinks and surviving the Michigan winters. I can make it back to the arena to get my keys. If it’s too bad, I’ll sleep there.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, still not turning around while I wait for the elevator.
“They’re calling for two feet of snow in the next twelve hours, plus it’s freezing outside.”
“I’ve got a coat,” I reply.
“They shut down the roads. It’s why you let us out of practice early.”
“It’s not that bad.” I stare at my distorted reflection in the silver doors of the elevator.
“Finley.”
“What are you doing?” I ask as Beckett comes to stand beside me.
“Convincing you not to get yourself killed.”
“My keys are at the arena.”
“Just stay with me.”
My gaze snaps to his, and I can see the sincerity in his offer. But the surge of need that shoots through my body tells me it’s a terrible idea. I shake my head.
“Queenie. Just… call the apartment manager and get them to let you in.”
Yes. It’s a great plan. I pull up their contact information, sighing in relief when a woman answers. Unfortunately, the news isn’t great.
“They’re on their way,” I lie cheerfully.
He scowls at me. “I heard her say they sent their staff home early today, too. Because it’s a blizzard, Fin!Yousaid so yourself when you cancelled practice for tomorrow and told everyone to just work out with whatever they’ve got at home. We’re in the final stretch of the season: we both know you never would’ve made that call if it wasn’t serious.”
“We don’t live as far away as some of the team does,” I argue, remembering the view from the building’s window of the dark night and the way the streetlight illuminated the snow falling sideways. But there’s at least a chance I’ll make it to the arena. I know I won’t make it through the night without making a bad decision with Beckett if I’m shut away with him while the world freezes into a winter wonderland.
“Fine,” Kane says. “I’ll go with you.”
I whirl around, my chest squeezing at the thought of him going out in the howling wind. “No! You’re injured. You can’t be out there.”
“If you can, I can. Just wait for me to go get my coat,” he demands.
“No. I’m fine.”
“You know it’s not safe out there, Fin. Please, if you can’t stay with me, let me go with you.”
I drop my head back, staring at the ceiling as I consider my options. Finally, I say, “Fine.”
Beckett stares at me long and hard before heading toward his door.
The elevator arrives while he’s still inside, and I walk in, frantically hitting the close door button. I race to the front of the building when I get to the first floor, stopping just long enough to pull on my winter hat and stick my hands deep into my pockets. I’m blasted by snow when the revolving door opens to the elements, and I strongly contemplate taking it for a full circle and hiding somewhere. But I know that would lead me back to Beckett and the bad decisions I’m not sure I can avoid much longer.
Instead, I take a step out into the cold, pulling up my hood, tucking my chin, and squeezing my eyes to try to mitigate my skin exposure. I’m going to fucking freeze to death.
It’s definitely worse than it was twenty minutes ago, when I made the short trek from the restaurant next door, where I’d been hanging out since I told everyone to go home hours ago. I thought if I waited long enough, Beckett would assume I wasn’t coming home, and I could avoid him again tonight.
I’ve never been someone to run from my problems, but since he asked to kiss me over two weeks ago, I’ve become a master of avoidance.
Because I know what the alternative is.
