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Ice Mechanic

Page 92

by Lia Bevans

“You want some skates?” Chance teases when he sees me wobbling.

“Absolutely not. I’m deathly allergic to falling on ice and balancing on razor-thin blades,” I mutter back.

Chance chuckles and keeps a steady grip on me until we get to non-slippery ground. The moment Chance steps onto the platform, he’s surrounded by his teammates, the coach, and reporters. It’s his moment to shine, so I slip away to find Rebel.

Thankfully, she sent a text letting me know she’s in the parking lot.

As I hurry past the chairs where we were sitting, I look for Gordie, but I don’t see her anywhere.

Outside, everyone stops and stares at me, but I don’t slow down. Hoofing it to the parking lot, I locate my best friend’s car and dive in.

“Well, hello, hello,” Rebel says darkly. I’m hit with a pair of judgmental blue eyes.

I raise my hands in surrender. “It’s not what you think.”

Rebel humphs.

“Everyone was watching. It was the perfect time to make a big splash. Really end the night with a bang.”

“It ended with a bang, alright.”

My heart thuds because she has no idea. Kissing Chance McLanely felt like I strapped my heart to two boxes of fire crackers, set a match and then forgot to run away.

Words escape my mouth, faster and faster. “Iknowthere’s going to be a buzz online about this. There were so many out-of-towners here too. You’ll see. We’re going to be booked tomorrow.”

Rebel purses her lips.

“I have everything under control,” I shriek in a voice that sounds like someone slowly losing her mind.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re literally looking at me like I left your car doors open in a thunderstorm.”

“Am I?”

“I didn’t kiss him because I wanted to,” I insist. “It was a business decision.”

“April, I want to believe you.”

“But?” I sigh.

“I totally believe in your plan and I love that you’re finally pampering yourself. You one hundred percent deserve to spend money on you and feel desirable and beautiful, but it’s just… Chance is… well, he’s like a really bad cold and you don’t have immunity.”

“I took my flu shot,” I argue.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Rebel says, giving my hand a squeeze.

Uncertainty steals the strength from my words, but I force my chin up. “He’s a good actor, but so am I. I can handle this, so stop looking at me like I’m a car wreck on the freeway.”

My phone buzzes.

I glance down and see a text from Chance.

The reporters won’t let me out of here, his text says.Can I pick you up from home?

Rebel blows out a breath. “Was that him?”

“Yeah.” My smile trembles a little.