Burning Ice - Chapter 13: Chapter 13

As I toss a few shirts into my duffel bag, I can't help but feel the weight of the day ahead. An away game, just a state over, but it feels like I'm about to leave the world behind. It's the routine with the airports, the hotels, the cramped rooms that all look the same. I fucking hate it. Every time I step into one, I'm reminded of my childhood, when my dad would disappear for weeks to live in fancy hotels, leaving me and Bennett with nannies, while he fucked around with who knows what kind of women. Prostitutes, drugs, whatever it was, it never mattered. It was just him, in his own world, oblivious to the fact that his kids were growing up with no guidance, no stability.
I slam my bag shut and run my hand through my hair, trying to shake off the memories. I'm a grown man, and this is the life I've built. But every time I travel, there's this gnawing feeling in my chest, like the hotel rooms are just a reminder of the shit I've tried to forget.
And then my mind flicks to Billie.
I wonder what she's doing. I know it's been less than a day since we last spoke, but I can't shake the thought of her. She's on my mind more than I care to admit, and that's saying something considering how I usually don't let anyone in. But with her, it feels different. Like I can't control it, even if I want to.
I think about the way she looked when I saw her at that gas station and how her eyes softened for a second, then went cold. That damn smirk of hers, the way she kept me on edge without even trying. I can't remember the last time someone made me feel like that. Not even close.
And now, I'm about to leave, and it's like a part of me is already panicking. What if she gets into some kind of trouble? I mean, I know she can handle herself. She's not some fragile woman who needs protection, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to be the one who's there, the one who makes sure nothing goes wrong for her. It's fucking ridiculous. I don't even know her. Not really.
But still, I can't ignore the way my chest tightens when I think about her being out there, doing whatever she's doing, without me.
I start pacing around my room, trying to shake off the feeling, but it just intensifies.
I'm falling for her, aren't I?
I laugh bitterly to myself, half in disbelief. How the hell did I let this happen? I've known her, what, a couple of days? And I'm already obsessing over her. But the way she looked at me, the way she responded to me...it felt like something more than just a casual encounter. Hell, I've barely had time to even talk to her, and I'm already fucking falling.
I shove my phone into my pocket and head toward the door. I've got to stop thinking about her. But then I hear my phone buzz, and I know it's probably her. For a second, I think about ignoring it, but the thought of not knowing what she might say next is just too tempting.
I glance at the screen.
It's a text from Billie.
My heart skips a beat.
I stare at the screen, the words blinking back at me, and for a second, it's like my brain stops working.
Billie: "Tonight work?"
Billie. Finally, she agrees. After all the teasing, all the back-and-forth, she's finally saying yes. But there's one fucking problem... tonight is the night I leave for the damn away game.
I clench my jaw, my grip tightening on the phone. How the hell does this even happen? The one time she actually agrees to see me, I'm a few states away, stuck in some hotel room I don't even want to be in.
I should be excited, right? I should be jumping at the chance that she's finally giving me a shot. But instead, it feels like I'm standing at the edge of some cliff, knowing that if I take a step forward, the ground will crumble beneath me.
I pace around the room, trying to think of a way out of this for some way to be in two places at once. I don't know why I'm freaking out. She's just a woman. A woman I barely know. But hell, she's been on my mind nonstop since I met her. The fact that she's even talking to me right now feels like a miracle, and now she wants to meet? But not when I'm actually in town. No. When I'm about to leave.
I stare at my phone again, my thumb hovering over the screen, debating. I could tell her I'll be gone. I could explain that the timing's bad, that I'll be out of town. I could keep playing it cool, keep up the whole 'whatever' attitude.
But something about her, something about the way she challenges me, makes me want to do the exact opposite. It makes me want to make this work, even if it means pushing past the odds.
I type out a quick message, not giving myself time to overthink it.
Nate: "I'm heading out for a game tonight, but I'll make it work. Let's talk details when I get back, yeah?"
It feels like the right thing to say, but a part of me wonders if I'm just setting myself up for another disappointment. She could just say, "Never mind," or "I changed my mind." She could decide I'm not worth the trouble. Hell, I could be reading all this wrong.
But I can't let the opportunity slip by. I can't just walk away from the chance to see where this could go.
I hit send and toss my phone on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
It's out of my hands now.
A few minutes passed. I'm sure she was thinking it over. Probably thinking this would be a good excuse to blow me off and never speak to me again. I basically given her a way out if she was having second thoughts.
Buzz
I stare at her message for a few seconds, letting the words sink in.
Billie: "I'll be here when you get back, tough guy. Don't let me hang"
A grin tugs at my lips, but the frustration still lingers. She's teasing me, and hell, I love it. But she's also making me wait or was I making her wait? I can't help but feel like I'm running out of time.
I don't know what the hell is happening to me. It's like she's got me wrapped around her finger already. And damn it, it's only been a few days since we kissed, but the pull toward her is so strong that I can barely focus on anything else.
I close my eyes for a second, trying to shake the feeling of urgency gnawing at me. What if something happens to her while I'm gone? What if someone else comes along and takes her attention away?
I hate the thought. I shouldn't even care this much. It's not like we're in some serious thing, but it feels different this time. Like, I'm already too deep to back out.
I quickly type out a response, trying to sound casual even though my thoughts are anything but.
Nate: "Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't have to wait too long. Can't leave you hanging, remember?"
There. That's better. But now the waiting begins, and the thought of being away from her, even just for a few days, gnaws at me. I can't get her out of my head, and I know I'm about to make a whole mess of things if I'm not careful.
But at this point, I don't even care.
The day is a blur. I barely remember half of it, just the noise, the crowd, and the weight of the puck in my stick. We got the win.
The victory feels hollow though, like I've been going through the motions. We got the win, great, whatever. But it's late, and I just want to get back home.
After the game ends just before 10 pm, we pile into the bus for the two-hour drive back. People are nodding off, lost in their own thoughts. The hum of the wheels on the road makes everything feel even more distant. I lean back in my seat, trying to zone out, but I can't stop thinking about Billie. My phone buzzes a couple of times, but I don't even care enough to check.
Before the game, we had stopped at the hotel to rest and prep. It was just another generic spot, nothing special. I don't even remember much of the downtime. It was just a room, a meal, and waiting for the game to start. But I couldn't shake the thought of Billie the entire time. Wondering if she's thinking about me, too.
The two-hour drive back feels like forever. It's almost 12 pm, and I'm still restless. I just want to get home, back to my own space, even if it's empty without her.
Well, that's not completely true.
When I finally pull into the parking lot of my complex at just after midnight, the weight of the day crashes down on me. I drop my bag by the door and leave the gear for tomorrow. But tonight, my mind can't stop spinning. I think about Billie, about what's next. Should I text her? Should I wait? Is she sleeping?
I can't figure it out, but I know I want to see her tonight.
Nate: "Are you still up?"
A minute passes but it feels like forever.
Billie: "I'm always up hun"
I smiled. A part of me wondered if she stayed up for me.
Nate: "I know it's late but I would still like to see you tonight"
Billie: "Are you not tired from your game?"
Nate: "Extremely. But I want to see you"
A few long seconds passed.
Billie: "Okay, where at?"
Fuck. I hadn't even thought about that. Nothing is open at this time.
Nate: "Uhh, maybe your place or mine? Just because nothing is open. Not trying to do anything funny"
Billie: "Says the funny guy. You probably don't want to see where I live. So I'll come to you"
Fuck.
Nate: "I would love to see where you live"
Billie: "HA, you would die. Like actually you would probably get robbed"
My brows frowned at the idea of her living someplace unsafe.
Nate: "It would be worth it"
Billie: "You really know how to lay it on thick"
Nate: "Not as thick as you"
I cringed at myself for that. Seriously? She probably thinks I'm a total creeper now.
Billie: "Are you going to come over or not?"
Nate: "On my way"
I didn't need her to tell me twice. I took probably the quickest shower ever known to man. I was still damp by the time I got into my truck. She had sent me over her address, it was a few miles away and I was able to make it there fairly quickly with no late night traffic.
I pull up to Billie's apartment and immediately feel my chest tighten. The neighborhood is a disaster, broken streetlights flicker on and off, casting uneven shadows on the cracked pavement. Barking dogs echo in the distance, and the air reeks of weed and stale trash. I glance around, scanning for any sign of trouble, because I know a place like this always hides it somewhere.
Her apartment complex doesn't look any better. The steps leading to the second floor are missing chunks of concrete, the railing is bent, and the pool in the center courtyard looks like it's been abandoned for years, filled with brown, murky water and floating trash. Overflowing garbage cans line the sidewalk, buzzing with flies.
I grip the steering wheel harder, my jaw locking. How the hell does she live here? How the hell does she feel safe coming home every night? I hate it. I hate that this is her reality, and I hate that I can't fix it right now.
She deserves better than this. Better than peeling paint and broken glass and the constant threat of danger waiting around every corner. She deserves better than any of it, and I promise myself right then and there, I'll find a way to change this. I don't care how long it takes or what I have to do. Billie's getting out of this place. She just doesn't know it yet.