Semua Bab Dancing On Ice: One-Night Stand With The Hockey Captain: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Memphis’s P.O.VRap music blasts from the speakers, ear-splitting. College mates and friends dance, drink, make out, and play games all around me. Drinking an exquisitely tasting cocktail from a red cup, I refresh the school’s breaking news page for the hundredth time. Still nothing. I check my emails and messages. Nothing. Nothing from Mr. Snape, too. My jaw ticks.It’s been over twenty-four hours since we were meant to get an official response from the Office of Sports and Athletics regarding our protest. Mr. Snape assured me that we were finally getting what we wanted. It’s my birthday; I should be partying and drinking like there’s no tomorrow, but I’m here losing my fu–ing mind because silence is never good news. Slipping my phone into my pocket, I purse my lips and exhale with worry before raising my head to meet Avan and Norman’s questioning gazes. Hope and expectations fill their eyes. With another sigh, I shake my head in response.“Shit,” they say at the same time, slappin

Memphis’s P.O.VEverything goes quiet inside of me. And I choke up, “T–two years ago?”“Yeah,” Marcus answers, nodding. “Her mom got into an accident, and I happened to be driving back to the hotel we stayed at when we went to New Jersey for that game you were invited to, and the conference Dad and I had to attend. Remember? It happened right in front of my car.”My mind splits in half. I shut my eyes for a second and pull away from him, shaking my head as it puts two and two together. My fingers dig into my hair, raking it backward.“Are you sure you’re okay, Big Guy?”I exhale deeply; it’s a shaky one. My hands are also shaking on my head. I want to tell him I’m okay, but my wobbling legs force me to drop into a squat.“Memphis?” Marcus calls out, concern lacing his voice.I lift my lids and head, staring up at him, looking into his worry-filled eyes. “What’s up with you?” His brows curve with concern. “You’ve been so out of it.”A deep breath slips out of me. “She had a panic attac

Marcus’s P.O.VI lean over her bed, so close to her, looking into her mesmerizing green eyes.“Marcus?” Anne-Marie murmurs for the fourth time, blinking sluggishly. My heart skips, beating for her.“I’m right here,” I whisper, using my hand to brush her hair from her face and fighting to keep my eyes from falling on her lips. Her gaze is unfocused; she keeps turning her head—signs that the sedative hasn’t worn off. According to the doctor, she should be unconscious for roughly two to three hours, but it’s only been about thirty minutes. She hasn’t said anything other than calling my name and that of her baby. Not Maryanne this time. ‘Mary’ is what she’s been calling. I have a feeling she’s hallucinating. I’m totally for it since it lets me be this close to her without getting her usual indifference and saddened expression.“Mary,” she mumbles again, her eyes slowly welling up in tears.“You want to see your baby?” I ask as I catch her tears with my thumb, brushing her skin.“Mary…” sh

Memphis’s P.O.V“Where is Marcus?” My dad questions, dismissing my call for help.“Dad,” I take a desperate step forward. “What’s up with the school’s board? Why the hell are those figure skaters coming back to the hockey arena?”He throws his hands up with an unbothered shrug. “Clarissa is in a much better position to answer that than I am. Her father is on the board… I run a tech company, not a college.”“But you donate funds to Northbridge,” I utter, hating his indifference. “You can do something about it.”“I’ve not been notified that my assistance is needed.”“Your assistance is needed. Your son is notifying you.” He exhales and scratches his temple, his brow jerking for a split second. His demeanor is too laid-back in his black two-piece knit set.My jaw ticks. My fist clenches around my phone as seconds go by and I wait for a response. If it were Marcus, he’d probably move mountains at the slightest distress. But it’s me and my ice hockey again. “Not your company. Not your cup

Anne-Marie’s P.O.VThe hairs on the back of my neck stand sharp, shooting an agonizing chill down my spine as I stare into Marcus’ eyes. I’m not breathing, and I don’t show that I’m trembling. Marcus is Champ’s brother. Marcus is Champ’s brother. How? And how did he find out about Champ?Another wave of nausea hits me. I put a hand over my mouth to stop a retch.His brows jump. “Are you okay?”I need to be out of your sight. I need to never see you or your brother again; then I’ll be okay. He touches me. My body flinches on instinct as I sluggishly withdraw.Hurt crosses his features, but it disappears in seconds when I let him hold my hands. And as usual, he holds them delicately, brushing his thumb over the back of my palms. His eyes drop on my hands. I follow his gaze and stare at my rough hands shaking in his. My heart races with alarm. Exhaustion and weakness cling to my every muscle, making it hard to jolt out of the seat and run away from him forever.Slowly, I lift my eyes,