Semua Bab Breaking The Ice Between Us : Bab 61 - Bab 70

CAPTAIN ~>> “What the fuck are you doing in a fucking library?! The fuck, man!” James’s voice shot out like a bullet, echoing through the quiet space before he immediately broke into loud, wheezing laughter. “You’re really finally losing your fucking mind!” Heads turned. The librarian at the far desk shot them a death glare, and someone in the aisle behind them actually muttered, “Shhh,” like they were in a goddamn movie or something. And James? James was practically doubled over, holding his stomach, struggling to catch his breath as his laugh echoed against the rows of dusty books and polished wooden shelves. I clenched my jaw, my hands tightening into fists at my side. “Shut the fuck up, James! You’re in a goddamn library!” I hissed under my breath, gritting my teeth so hard I felt like I might crack a molar. My voice was low but sharp, slicing through the air between us like a knife. “Do you always have to act like a damn clown?” James straightened slightly, wiping under his

He was at the far end of the rink, pulling on his gloves and adjusting his helmet. His posture was all calm confidence, like he had nothing to prove and everything to gain. His hair was messy under the helmet, a few strands curling against his forehead in a way that made my chest feel too tight. He caught my eye for a split second—just long enough for me to feel that jolt of recognition—but then he looked away, focused on his stick instead.I forced my gaze back to the ice in front of me. No point in staring, no point in giving anything away. He wasn’t here for me, anyway. He was here for the same reason I was—to play. To skate. To forget everything else for a little while.Coach blew the whistle and barked out a few drills, his voice echoing off the boards. I pushed off hard, falling into the familiar rhythm of passing, skating, stopping on a dime. My legs burned with each pivot, my breath coming heavily out my helmet. James kept pace beside me, his mouth running even when he was gas

The next morning felt like a fucking warzone. I groaned into my pillow, rolling over and stretching my arms above my head, the soreness running from my shoulders down to my calves. Fuck, the steady use of my muscles was finally taking a toll, every inch of me reminding me of just how hard I’d been pushing lately. Practice had been brutal. My legs felt like they were full of lead, my back tight like it’d been strung up on wires. Even my hands felt raw, knuckles scraped from those cheap-ass gloves I kept meaning to replace. And honestly? I loved it. The ache was proof that I wasn’t just sitting around stewing over Andrew—I was living. Grinding. Fighting. But fuck if it didn’t sting a little. I rolled over and grabbed my phone from the nightstand, squinting at the bright screen. Notifications lit up my lock screen like fireworks. My OnlyFans was still buzzing—hearts, fire emojis, and a few 'where’s the rest?" messages from my fans. Some of them were clearly a little pissed. Maybe I’

I let the phone fall back onto the bed, the soft thump of it hitting the comforter oddly satisfying. My eyes lingered on the screen for another moment, then I pushed myself to my feet with a stretch and a low groan. I padded out of my room, bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor as I made my way to the kitchen. The place was clean—surprisingly so, considering how often I let shit pile up. A few empty beer bottles on the counter, but otherwise spotless. I’d actually gone grocery shopping recently—one of those rare bursts of responsibility that hit me out of nowhere. So yeah, the fridge was fully stocked for once, and that was fucking satisfying.I yanked open the door of the fridge, the cold air hitting my face as I peered inside. Rows of neatly lined-up groceries greeted me—eggs, fresh veggies, a few packs of chicken breast. A carton of milk sat at the back, the little expiration date peeking out like it was daring me to actually use it before it went bad. And in the bottom drawer

Fucking asshole! I spat the words out loud as I collapsed onto my bed, the springs creaking under me like they were groaning in agreement. My whole body was tense—jaw locked, fists clenched, shoulders tight.I reached for my phone, half expecting it to spontaneously combust from how pissed off I was. My thumb hovered over the screen, and I checked to see if Andrew had replied yet.He hadn’t, So I started scrolling aimlessly. Messages. Notifications. Bullshit memes from James that I didn’t even bother opening. All the while, that white-hot anger was still there, simmering under my skin like a fucking rash I couldn’t scratch. My father. That motherfucker. Showing up in my apartment like it was the most normal thing in the world—like I hadn’t spent years trying to scrape his influence out of my life like gum off my shoe.I squeezed my phone so hard I was surprised it didn’t crack. How could he be so fucking shameless? Less than a goddamn week since I paid Regina’s hospital bill—out of my