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Washed Up
publish date:
2026-06-09 07:02:25
Latest chapter
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance The Lamp Goes Off
POV: Silver PrestonThe latch clicks behind me.I lean against the door, letting my full weight settle into the wood for a moment, as if it might hold up more than just my body.My eyes close.The phantom sensation of Weston's lips against my knuckles sits on my skin with the particular persistence of something designed to linger. Not pleasant, not unpleasant. Just present. A small, deliberate mark, the kind that asks to be noticed and remembered, whether I want it to or not.I open my eyes.Americus is watching me from her bed.She sits cross-legged, her dark hair caught in a pencil-secured bun that looks one sharp movement from total collapse. Her arms are folded across her chest. Her expression is the organized one, the version she wears when she has been thinking for a while and has arranged everything she wants to say into a specific order, like index cards laid out and numbered.She does not speak yet.The desk lamp throws light across the room, and in it I can see every detail
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance The Window
POV: Americus BentleyI cannot sleep.This is not unusual for me. I have a lot of thoughts, and they tend to arrive at volume, crowding in one after another until the only way to quiet them is to let them run their course.But tonight the specific reason I cannot sleep is that Silver went to Ingalls alone after breakfast and has not come back. It is now somewhere past midnight, her side of the room is empty, and I have been lying here for an hour watching the ceiling, trying to decide whether to text her or whether texting her would be the thing that pushes her further away from whatever she is working through. I have rehearsed three different messages in my head and deleted all of them before typing a single letter.I decide to turn on my desk lamp and pretend to do readings.This is also not unusual for me. Pretending to be productive has gotten me through more sleepless nights than I would like to admit, and there is something almost comforting in the ritual of it, the lamp, the bo
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance Dangerous
POV: Silver PrestonI have already half-regretted taking his arm before we reach the first streetlamp.The cold outside is the sharp, clarifying kind that follows a storm once it has spent itself. The sky has gone clear and dark, stars scattered across it with the precise indifference of something that has been there longer than any of us. The Gothic towers of the residential colleges rise against it like cut paper, every ledge and carved detail still softened by accumulated snow. It is the kind of night that makes a person feel small in a way that is not entirely unwelcome.Weston walks beside me with the easy, unhurried quality he applies to everything, as though the temperature, the hour, and the fact that I am clearly favoring my left leg are all minor details that have nothing to do with him. He does not adjust his pace to mine. He does not need to; I suspect he has already calculated exactly how slow I can go without admitting it costs me anything.My knee makes each step its ow
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance Suspended
POV: Silver PrestonSilence can cut sharper than words.The laughter fades the way laughter does when it was the only honest thing in the room and both people know it. It dissolves into the cold air of Ingalls and leaves something more complicated behind, something with no easy name.We are still on the ice. He is still in street shoes. The hockey stick lies on the surface where it fell when he slipped. For about thirty seconds the whole weight of the semester lifted, and we were just two people on ice after a storm, and it was real, and it was good. I had almost forgotten what that felt like, the two of us existing without the constant calculation of what we owed each other or what we were protecting ourselves from.Then the moment closes.He picks up the stick. The carbon fiber scrapes the surface as he straightens, and I watch the change happen in real time, like watching a door swing shut from the inside. When he stands again, the mask is back. Calm. Controlled. The version of him
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance The Second Time
POV: Eli HayesShe asks it again.Why do you care.A whisper this time, not a challenge. The empty rink catches it and holds it, the echo softening the edges until what remains is something closer to genuine than anything she has directed at me since the Sterling steps.Her voice cracked in the middle of the sentence before this one. I heard it happen. The crack in someone's voice when they are fighting to stay controlled and the fight is almost lost is a sound I know well, from inside and from outside. I have been on both sides of it, and I have never found a way to make it easier to hear.I look at her.She is against the boards, hands gripping the barrier behind her, her weight still distributed slightly off the left leg despite every effort she is making not to show it. Her hair has come loose from whatever careful arrangement it started the evening in. There is ice on her sleeve from the fall. Her eyes are bright in the specific way that is not going to be tears and is not fully
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance Street Shoes On Ice
POV: Silver PrestonHe looks at me like I am reckless, not brave.I turn my back on that look and push off toward the far end of the rink. I do not want to see whatever else lives behind his eyes right now.Each stroke sends a fresh pulse of pain up from my knee, but my blades cut clean lines through the surface and I keep moving. I am not going to stand at the boards and let him catalog my damage like a scout filling out an injury report. I have had enough people do that already this season, their eyes tracking every hitch in my stride, every hesitation before a jump, tallying my failures into some private ledger.The gate clangs.Then the wrong sound on ice.Sneakers.I glance back.Eli has vaulted the boards in his street shoes and landed on the frozen surface with the casual coordination of someone whose body does not recognize the concept of awkward. He still has his stick. His sneakers squeak against the ice with each step but he does not slip, not once, because of course he doe
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance The Diagnosis
POV: Silver PrestonThe world comes back in pieces.First, the sound.A steady electronic pulse that echoes from somewhere far away, then closer, then inside my skull.Beep. Beep. Beep.Each tone feels like a small hammer tapping against my consciousness, dragging me back from whatever dark place m
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance The Fall
POV: Silver PrestonThe ice looks too clean to be real.I've skated on plenty of rinks. Cramped training facilities with flickering fluorescents. Outdoor ponds that crack under winter sun. Even the gleaming Olympic oval in Colorado Springs, where dreams feel as tangible as morning frost.But this?
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance Cobblestones
POV: Silver PrestonUp close, Yale looms even larger than it did from the shuttle window.The Gothic spires press into the late afternoon sky, their shadows cutting long and dark across the courtyards below. I have competed in arenas built specifically to intimidate, designed with high ceilings and
Ice & Ivy - A Hockey Romance Who Are You Without the Ice
POV: Silver PrestonShe looks like she just stepped out of a board meeting.Perfectly pressed navy blazer without a wrinkle. Blonde hair pulled back in the same severe chignon she wore at the arena. Makeup completely intact despite however many hours she spent in a waiting room down the hall.Leona
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