Icebound (Boundless Players)

“What about that woman?” I ask Rhode as his fingers twirl in my hair, the sound of children’s laughter drifting from the castle moon bounce. “She’s already got kids, so you’d be jumping right into a family. Problem solved.”

Snuggling closer to him on the Adirondack chair, I watch him squint at the woman through the bright sunlight, noting each minor shift in his expression. Everyone at Wyatt’s barbecue—or is it Patty? I never know what to call him—looks like a model.

His head tilts. “She doesn’t have blonde hair.”

“What, you only date blondes? Since when?”

He flips his cap backward, giving me a flat look. “Nina.”

“What?” I zone in on the backward hat. “Okay, you’re always a twelve out of ten solely based on your personality, but with the hat turned around? I want to drag you to the nearest bedroom.”

“You’re really over-inflating my ego right now. Keep talking.” He smirks, somehow managing to look both innocent and arrogant at the same time.

I stroke his stubble. “So, is that a yes to the bedroom? Because it’s been two weeks since we’ve had sex, and my dirty fantasies are not doing it for me anymore. You’re gone all the time. I’m tired of staring at you on a screen.”

He releases a tortured groan. “I want to hear about these fantasies later, but you’re going to make me hard at a one-year-old’s birthday party, and then I’m going to get arrested because that’s creepy as fuck. I’m barely keeping it together with your big fine ass on my lap.”

I wiggle my big fine ass right over his hardening dick. “Oh, but it’d be so fun.”

He kisses the crook of my neck. “I’ll fuck you nice and good later, pretty girl, but not here. Let’s go home so you can scream my name as loud as you want.”

I mock gasp. “My neighbors are ninety. We’ll traumatize them.”

“Ninety-year-olds can still get up to some kinky shit. I plan to.”

“Fine. I’ll be extra loud for the kinky ninety-year-olds.”

“That’s my girl.”

I blink, mentally replaying the words. He’s never called me his girl before, and it feels like someone set a thousand fireflies loose in my stomach, which is not ideal, considering I finally booked my flight to Argentina.

He continues twirling my hair, which is a nice distraction from the anxiety thrumming under my skin like an electrical current. The six-mile run I went on this morning didn’t help, unfortunately. I’ve already chewed through an entire box of cinnamon gum.

Ever since I stepped into Wyatt’s quintessential country home for Betty’s birthday party—complete with cows, a private lake, and an outdoor pool area—I’ve been coiled tight at the thought of making small talk for hours with strangers.

My sleepless spiral last night didn’t help.

I thought about canceling at least fifty times, but this was my only option if I wanted to see Rhode since he’s leaving for another week of games, and things will only get busier if they make it to the playoffs.

All my worst qualities are coming out of hiding because of it—self-consciousness, jealousy, racing thoughts, overanalyzing every woman eyeing Rhode.

They’re all staring at him.

I’m second-guessing each word that comes out of my mouth, and I’m still cringing about the cow joke I made earlier to some random person. I’m going to be thinking about that for the next ten years.

I scan the backyard party, nodding to a blonde in leggings and a high ponytail who looks like she pronounces croissant with a French accent. “What about dating someone like her after I leave? She looks like she could chase kids around all day and then go rule over a boardroom.”

Rhode turns, frowns, and directs his attention back to me. “She doesn’t have a nose piercing.”

“How can you tell from this far away? Okay…” I scan the sleek infinity pool, my attention settling on a woman blowing bubbles in a floral sundress. “What about her? She looks nice.”

“Stop, Nina.” He hooks a finger under my chin and coaxes my head up with his knuckle. “I’m not doing this with you. She doesn’t have a star tattoo on her right shoulder, or a Texas-shaped birthmark, or gold glasses, or freckles I can’t stop staring at, alright? Stop asking me about other women I could date when I’ve got you in my arms. You’re the only one I’m thinking about.”

I try not to let those words sink into my heart, but it’s hard when he’s the only man on my mind.

I brush my nose against his, lips tingling, aching to touch his mouth. “You’re right. No more talking about other people. Let’s talk about something else. Does all this make you excited to have a family one day?”

He scowls at the two-year-old with tears streaming down his face. The little one’s wails pierce the air as he stomps his tiny feet against the ground. His mother deserves a medal for watching in patient silence.

His nose crinkles. “You know. I might’ve underestimated how hard parenting actually is. I always imagined the perfect family, but I think you need the right teammate.”

“There’s no such thing as a perfect family. We’re all a little frayed around the edges, but I agree with the teammate thing. That’s why whoever I end up with needs to be steady and calm because my kids can’t have two shitshow parents.”

His fingers latch around my waist. “You’re not a shitshow, Nina. You’re amazing. It takes a lot of bravery to go after what you want.”

He says the words with so much intensity, so much fervor, that I think he actually believes them, but I’m not sure I do.

“Rhode, there you are!”

I stiffen at the posh British accent. A woman with light brown eyes that match her complexion glides toward us, parting the backyard barbecue with effortless grace.

Her raven-black hair cascades around her shoulders like it’s been tousled by a sea breeze. She’s wearing a cotton-white dress that flutters to her knees, so each step makes her look like a floating angel. My eyes drop to the massive diamond ring on her left hand, and I exhale in relief.

Rhode kisses my neck. “Alright, I’m warning you. This is one of my exes. Anjali’s really nice, though. Promise. She’s a family law attorney and helped Patty with some custody issues, but she’s engaged now. We’re friends.”

“Oh. Great,” I say, sounding the opposite of great.

I smile tightly, my heart pounding at the idea of talking with one of Rhode’s pristine exes. It feels like I’m the only one he’s dated that isn’t a model, an heiress, or C-level executive, but when insecurity bubbles, I try to remind myself that even though they sparkle, we all shine for someone.

“Rhode Tremblay, you tosser!” Anjali’s tinkling laugh drifts on the crisp breeze. “Don’t you look dashing. Giving every woman those fanny flutters, as always.” She elegantly perches on the arm of the Adirondack chair next to us, cradling her chin. “And hello, lovely to meet you. I’m Anjali Patel, and you are…”

I hold out a shaky hand, trying my best not to compare her stain-free dress to my overalls. “I’m Nina, Rhode’s friend. It’s so nice to meet you.”

She gives me a warm, genuine smile. “Ah, what a lovely name for a lovely girl.” She turns to Rhode. “And how are you, doll? It’s been ages! I think the last time I saw you was when you called me after that yacht incident. I had a right laugh about that. I can’t believe you called a family lawyer for a misdemeanor offense.”

Rhode’s cheeks turn a little red in the sunlight. “Yeah, not my finest moment.”

“You were always a wild one. Bloody good time, though.” Anjali taps Rhode’s arm. “But look at you now, doing underwear commercials and making single mums around the world fall in love with that turtle on your thigh. What did you name it again? Edwin?”

“Edgar,” we both say.

“Ah, yes! That’s it. Edgar.”

Rhode smiles, but his eyes don’t scrunch around the corners like normal. If anything, he looks embarrassed.

Those creases are one of my favorite things, so I interlace our hands. “You know, I read that commercial actually generated a ton of money in donations for nonprofits, so it helped a lot of people.”

Anjali gasps, lightly slapping his arm. I try not to scowl at the motion because I know she’s being nothing but friendly. “Did it really? I had no idea. That’s unbelievable!”

Rhode brushes the hair from behind my ear, and I shiver despite the warm sunlight. “Thank you for that,” he whispers. “You’re always standing up for me.”

He smiles against my neck, tugging me tighter against him, and even though I should pull away, I don’t because his hugs calm me down more than a long run.

They continue talking, but Rhode’s thumb distracts me as it climbs higher and higher up my waist, slipping beneath my overalls to brush the underside of my breast.

I can’t stop thinking about the way he kept his comforting hand on my lower back while introducing me to his friends. How he never once balked when someone’s mouth dropped after they asked my age. The way he proudly tells people about my pottery fellowship.

As a hockey player with enough trophies to fill a mansion, I thought he would treat me like a secret, but he’s shouting my successes to anyone who will listen, the same way I tell everyone about his hockey wins.

All those meaningful little things are adding up to a big problem for my heart.

“Betty did it!” Wyatt suddenly screams across the pool. “She said ‘Dada’! Mom, Mama, y’all, she said it! Come over here!”

“No shit! Let me hear!” Rhode lifts me off his lap and leaps off the chair. He races around the pool over to Wyatt, pulling him into one of those manly slap hugs.

He’s bursting with so much excitement that I’m not even irritated with him for leaving me alone with Anjali. I smile, contemplating whether to go over there, but with the enormous crowd cooing over Wyatt holding Betty, I’d rather have some breathing room, even if it is next to Rhode’s ex.

Anjali chuckles. “Well, that man sure is infatuated with you.”

My stomach does a little flip. “What makes you say that?”

“Because he can’t stop staring at you. That man looks at you like you’re sparkling under the sun.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Oh, but he does, doll. He never once looked at me like that.”

I lift a shoulder, trying not to appear like my heart’s doubling in size. “Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. I’m leaving for Argentina in a couple of months, so this ends soon, and I can’t live a life in the spotlight. The NHL’s too intense for me.”

“Yes, their life is rather demanding.” She waves her diamond ring. “That’s why I’m so happy I found my partner. I needed someone willing to give up everything for my career. He’s absolutely incredible…”

“Look at her!” Rhode shouts across the backyard. “She said it again for you, man. Your baby girl’s on a roll!”

As I watch Rhode prop Betty on his hip, looking like he was designed to be a father, something twists in my chest. My thoughts fracture, splintering off in a million different directions.

What am I doing with him?

I’m not ready for that. I’m stealing away his chance to meet someone who actually wants the same things. Someone who wants a family and doesn’t start sweating at the thought of being in a crowded stadium.

The air turns thick like I’m inhaling water.

No.

Not here.

Not again.

I’m on my feet in an instant, the chair clattering behind me. I don’t want to be a burden, so I put on my chronic smile and mutter an excuse to Anjali before barreling onto the back porch.

She probably thinks I’m rude, so this is another thing I’ll be stressing about five years from now when I can’t sleep. Swinging open the front door, I place my hands on my knees, sucking in the crisp farm breeze.

You’re not cliff diving, Nina. You’re fine. You’re just at a birthday party.

My mind’s on that precipice of spiraling, but I can’t risk breaking down in public again, so with trembling fingers, I pull out my phone and text Gwen.

ME

Can you come pick me up? Not feeling great, and I don’t want to make Rhode drive me home.

GWEN

Sure, I’ll be there in ten!

I release a heavy breath, and an overwhelming wave of gratitude for my sister washes over me. I really need to tell her I love her more because no matter how much I distance myself, she always comes for me. I think I’d be devastated if she ever let me push her away.

Tucking my phone in my jeans pocket, I resort to my habitual breathing exercises, resenting every second I’m forced to deal with this mess. Dr. Ghosh swears they work, but sometimes, I think it’s all a placebo effect. In the back of my head, Rhode’s words play on repeat.

It takes a hell of a lot more strength to climb up something.

I don’t want to have to be strong—I just want to be strong. I hate that I can’t go to a one-year-old’s birthday party without losing control, or maybe I won’t, I don’t know. My heart rate’s returning to normal, so these breathing exercises might actually be working.

Shocking.

A door clicks open behind me, and steps echo down the porch. I glance over my shoulder to find Rhode sauntering down the stairs with a wide grin. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Sorry I left you like that. I got excited.” His eyes scan my flushed face, and the grin drops from his lips. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” I snap, too focused on keeping myself from losing control to elaborate.

He reaches for my shoulders, but I jerk back, not wanting him to feel how sweaty I am beneath my overalls. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong? Did Anjali say something?”

“No, she’s wonderful, but it’s…” I pinch the bridge of my nose like that will stop my anger from exploding.

My phone buzzes.

I look down to see a message from Gwen letting me know she’s parked out front, and the tension drains from my shoulders. “Can we do this later? I need some space, and I’m just going to yell at you again, and say something I regret if we keep talking, so I should go.”

His frown deepens. “You’re leaving? Why? The party’s not over, and I’ve barely seen you.”

“I just need to go,” I grit out.

He reaches for my shoulders, but I move away from him because I don’t want him to feel how sweaty I am.

He shoves his hands deep in his pockets instead. “I want to help, Nina. That’s all. Anjali said you ran out, and she was worried. I wanted to check on you.”

The softness in his voice makes guilt grow inside me, which festers into anger because I can’t even manage to have a fucking conversation when I’m trying to hold onto that shred of control.

I hate it, but I snap.

“I don’t need anyone’s help, but I especially don’t need your help. We’re barely even together. All you do is give me orgasms. Yeah, they might be amazing, legendary even, but that’s all you are to me, so no, I don’t need your help, Rhode.”

I regret the words before they leave my mouth. A muscle jumps in his cheek, but instead of seeming angry, he looks upset. My eyes burn with tears.

“Really? All I do is give you orgasms?” He scoffs, backing away, but he won’t look at me, so I can tell my words hit their hurtful mark. “Alright, then, I guess you’ll have no problem finding them somewhere else.”