Burning Ice - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

I can still see her standing there, her eyes burning with a mix of frustration and something softer, something I didn't deserve. That look gutted me. Billie had a way of cutting through my defenses like no one else, like she could see straight into the parts of me I tried to keep buried.
She caught me off guard at the club, showing up in the middle of the noise and chaos, surrounded by my teammates and the aftermath of a big win. Everyone else was laughing, drinking, celebrating like nothing else mattered. And me? I was going through the motions, pretending I was okay. Pretending like the weight of my dad's death and everything else wasn't slowly crushing me.
When I saw her, though, my stomach dropped. I knew why she was there before she even opened her mouth. She'd been trying to reach me for days, and I'd been dodging her. Not because I didn't care—God, I cared too much—but because I didn't know how to let her in without breaking apart completely.
She didn't yell. She didn't make a scene. That almost made it worse. Her voice was calm but firm, every word hitting its mark. "You don't have to have it all figured out, Nate," she said, stepping closer, her expression softening. "I'm not asking for that. I just need you to be real with me. I need you to stop hiding."
I couldn't even look at her at first. I stared at the floor, feeling like a damn coward. "I'm sorry," I told her, my voice barely above a whisper. It felt like the only thing I could say. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know how to... to deal with it. I'm just... messed up right now. And I don't know what to do."
And that was the truth. I didn't have a clue what I was doing, but I hated that I was dragging her into my mess. I hated that I was hurting her when all she'd done was try to help me.
But then she stepped closer, and I finally forced myself to meet her gaze. There was no anger there, just this quiet strength that knocked the air out of my lungs. She was giving me another chance, even when I didn't deserve one.
Her words stuck with me: You don't have to have it all figured out. I'd been so caught up in trying to be okay, in pretending like I could handle everything on my own, that I hadn't stopped to think that maybe I didn't have to.
When I nodded, it wasn't just for her, it was for me too. A promise that I'd try, that I'd stop shutting her out. Because the truth was, she made me want to be better. She made me want to be someone worth fighting for.
Even now, days later, I can't stop thinking about that moment. About her. About how close I came to losing the only good thing in my life because I was too scared to let her see me fall apart.
But she didn't walk away. And that means everything.
———
I'd never been nervous about inviting someone to my place before. It was just a house, a space with walls and furniture where I could shut out the world. But with Billie, it felt like more than that. Letting her into my home meant letting her into a part of me I'd never shown anyone else.
I thought about it all day, going back and forth in my head. Was it too soon? Would she even want to come? She'd seen me at my worst, standing in the middle of a crowded club, barely holding it together. But this felt... bigger. More personal.
When I finally sent her the text, my palms were sweaty.
Come over tonight?
Two simple words, but they carried the weight of something I wasn't sure I could put into words yet.
Her reply came quicker than I expected.
Sure. What time?
That one word settled the nerves in my chest. She didn't hesitate. She didn't overthink it. She just said yes.
By the time she pulled into my driveway, I was pacing in the living room, trying not to overanalyze everything. Did the place look okay? Did I leave anything lying around that would give her the wrong idea? It wasn't like I had skeletons in my closet just a lot of hockey gear and takeout containers I hadn't bothered to throw out.
When I heard her knock, I took a deep breath and opened the door. There she was, standing on my front step, looking a little uncertain but still wearing that small, shy smile that always managed to undo me.
"Hey" I said, stepping aside so she could come in.
"Hey" she echoed, glancing around as she walked in. Her gaze swept over the room, taking in the space that suddenly felt a lot smaller now that she was standing in it.
"It's not much," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Just a place to crash between games and practices."
She turned to me, her smile softening. "It's great. Feels... like you."
I didn't know what she meant by that, but something about the way she said it made my chest tighten.
"Can I get you something to drink?" I asked, gesturing toward the kitchen.
"Sure. Whatever you've got" she said, following me as I moved toward the fridge.
The air between us felt different tonight, more calmer, more grounded. Like we were finally on the same page after everything that had happened. And as she settled onto my couch, her legs tucked underneath her and a glass of water in her hands, I realized how much I liked seeing her there.
It was strange, having her in my space, but it didn't feel wrong. If anything, it felt like something I'd been missing without even knowing it.
"This is nice," she said, looking at me over the rim of her glass. "Thanks for inviting me."
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Thanks for coming."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't just existing in my house. I was living in it. Because she was here.
She set her glass down on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch, her posture relaxed, but the glint in her eye told me she was gearing up for something.
"So," she began, her lips quirking into that teasing smile of hers, "this is it. The Nate Griffith bachelor pad. It's... simpler than I expected."
I smirked, sitting across from her in the armchair. "Simpler? What's that supposed to mean?"
She shrugged, looking around the room like she was appraising it. "I don't know. For a guy with your paycheck, I guess I thought there'd be, I don't know, a chandelier? Maybe a butler or two."
I snorted. "What, you think I live in a palace? Hate to break it to you, but pro hockey players aren't rolling in that much cash."
"Uh-huh," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Sure, Griffith. That's why you've got a TV that's bigger than most of the walls in my apartment."
I couldn't help but grin. "Hey, priorities. A man needs his game nights."
She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, that soft curve of her lips that always pulled me in. "Fair. But I still feel like your place could use some... personality. It's so clean. It's almost unsettling."
"That's because I cleaned before you got here," I said, leaning back and resting my arms on the sides of the chair. "Figured I'd make a good impression."
"Too late for that," she shot back, grinning. "But I appreciate the effort."
I laughed, shaking my head. She always knew how to keep me on my toes.
"You're talking a lot for someone who has an entire corner of their apartment dedicated to shoes," I said, smirking at her.
Her mouth fell open in mock offense. "Excuse me, those shoes have a purpose. I work hard for those. You, on the other hand, just have... white walls and some very suspiciously perfect throw pillows."
"Suspiciously perfect?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What's suspicious about them?"
She narrowed her eyes, pointing at one of the pillows on the couch. "That one. It's too fluffed. It's like you staged it just for me."
"Maybe I did," I said, keeping my tone casual.
Her eyebrows shot up, and she gave me a slow, almost predatory grin. "Oh, so you're trying to impress me now?"
"Maybe," I admitted, holding her gaze. "Is it working?"
She tilted her head, pretending to think it over. "Hmm. Not bad. But I think you're missing a few key elements."
"Like what?"
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Some color, maybe. A plant or two. Something to prove that an actual human lives here and not a robot who just happens to play hockey."
I shook my head, smiling despite myself. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Yeah" she said, her smile softening as she sat back again. "But you like me anyway."
I didn't say anything to that. I didn't have to. The way her gaze lingered on mine, and the way my chest felt a little lighter with her here, it said it all.
I shook my head, fighting a grin. "You've got a lot of opinions for someone who's wearing socks with holes in them."
Her mouth dropped open, and she quickly tucked her feet under her. "Excuse me! These are my favorite socks."
"Favorite or not, they're practically falling apart" I said, sitting back and crossing my arms. "I don't know if I should feel bad for you or take you shopping."
"You better watch it, Griffith," she warned, narrowing her eyes at me.
"Or what?" I shot back, arching an eyebrow.
That was when she lunged, her fingers jabbing at my ribs in a quick, unexpected move that made me jerk back with a laugh.
"Oh, you're in trouble now" I said, grabbing her wrist before she could retreat.
She squealed as I yanked her toward me, twisting just enough to avoid her other hand. But she was faster than I expected, and before I knew it, her fingers were digging into my side again, finding the one damn spot that always made me lose it.
"Not fair!" I gasped, laughing as I twisted out of her reach.
"All's fair in war" she declared, laughing as she went for me again.
I caught both her wrists this time, flipping us so she was pinned beneath me on the couch, breathless and laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.
"Gotcha" I said, grinning down at her.
"Okay, okay, you win," she said, still laughing. "Truce!"
"Truce?" I asked, pretending to consider it. "Only if you admit my place isn't that bad."
She huffed, her grin softening. "Fine. Your place is... okay. Still needs work, though."
"Good enough" I said.
But as the laughter faded, the space between us seemed to shrink. She was still pinned beneath me, her cheeks flushed from laughing, her chest rising and falling against mine. Her smile faded just a little, her gaze dropping to my mouth.
I didn't think. I just leaned in, brushing my lips against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. She froze for half a second before her arms slipped around my neck, pulling me closer.
The kiss deepened, and for a moment, everything else disappeared, the teasing, the jokes, the weight of everything we'd been through. It was just her, warm and real, and exactly where she was supposed to be.
When we finally broke apart, her smile was back, softer this time. "You're lucky I called a truce" she whispered.
"Yeah" I said, my voice low as I leaned my forehead against hers. "I'm really starting to think I'm the luckiest guy alive."
We stayed like that for a moment, her arms around my neck, my hands braced on either side of her, as if the rest of the world had disappeared. It wasn't until she tilted her head slightly, her nose brushing against mine, that I realized I was still hovering over her.
"Not that I mind this," she said, her tone light, "but do you plan on pinning me to your couch all night?"
I blinked, a grin tugging at my lips. "That depends. Are you planning on attacking me again?"
She laughed softly, her fingers sliding through the hair at the back of my neck. "I think I've proven my point."
"Debatable," I said, sitting back and pulling her up with me. "But I'll let you off the hook... for now."
She settled next to me, pulling her legs up onto the couch and tucking them under her. "You know, for someone who claims to be competitive, you give up way too easily."
I scoffed. "I didn't give up. I showed mercy. There's a difference."
"Oh, of course," she teased, resting her chin on her hand. "Big, tough hockey player showing mercy to little ol' me. How generous."
"Hey, I'm trying to keep the peace here," I said, leaning back and tossing my arm over the back of the couch. "Besides, I've seen you in action. You're dangerous."
She smiled, but there was something softer in her eyes now, something that made my chest tighten. "You're not so bad yourself, Griffith. You're actually kinda fun when you're not brooding."
"Brooding?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.
She nodded, her grin widening. "Yeah, you know, the whole 'tortured hockey star with a tragic past' thing. It's very dramatic. I'm sure it works great on your fans."
I groaned, running a hand down my face. "You're relentless, you know that?"
"Yep" she said, popping the "p." "And don't act like you don't love it."
I couldn't argue with that, so I didn't. Instead, I reached out and tugged on a loose strand of her hair, watching it curl around my finger.
"You're full of surprises, Carter," I said quietly.
She tilted her head, her expression softening. "Good ones or bad ones?"
"Good ones," I said, my voice dropping. "Definitely good ones."
Her smile faded slightly, and for a moment, we just looked at each other, the teasing and banter giving way to something deeper. I didn't know what to call it, but it was there, in the way she leaned into my touch, the way her gaze stayed locked on mine.
And then, because I couldn't help myself, I kissed her again. This time, it wasn't tentative. It was slow, steady, and filled with everything I couldn't put into words.
When we finally pulled apart, she let out a soft, shaky laugh. "You're dangerous too, Griffith."
"Guess that makes us even," I said, brushing my thumb along her jaw.
She shook her head, but her smile didn't waver. "Not even close."
I didn't argue with that either.
We were both leaning back on the couch now, my arm casually draped over the back behind her, but the playful teasing had shifted. She settled in, her feet tucked underneath her, looking at me like she was weighing something in her mind.
"You know," she started, her voice a little softer now, "I don't think I've ever been to a guy's place quite like this before."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? How so?"
She shrugged, her fingers tracing small patterns on the armrest. "Well, I mean, I've been to some guys' places. They're usually... more chaotic. Or they try too hard to impress. But you? It's like you don't care. It's just you."
I was quiet for a moment, taking in what she said. "I don't care much for impressing anyone. Never really saw the point."
Billie turned to look at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, I noticed. You're refreshingly... yourself."
There was a pause, and I could feel the weight of her words settling in the space between us. I wasn't sure what to say next, but it was like she had peeled back some of my layers without me even realizing it.
"Does that... bother you?" I asked, my voice quieter now.
She shook her head slowly, the smile still there, but softer. "No. It's just different. In a good way."
I could feel the shift between us, the easy banter and teasing still there, but something else was blooming, too. Maybe it was the way she was looking at me, like she was seeing more than just the guy she was teasing.
I leaned back, a little more aware of the tension that had settled between us. "Good, I guess. I'm not really the 'try-hard' type."
She laughed softly. "No kidding."
But her gaze softened again, her expression turning more thoughtful. "I like it, though. I like being here... with you."
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I shifted, suddenly more aware of the distance between us. "You really mean that?" I asked, a little unsure, even though I had no reason to doubt her.
Billie nodded, her gaze steady. "Yeah. I do."
For a moment, the words hung there, unspoken things that we both knew but hadn't yet said. I didn't want to make it heavy, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more between us than I had realized.
"You're not so bad yourself, Carter," I said, giving her a crooked smile. "For someone who's a bit of a tornado."
She laughed, that familiar spark returning in her eyes. "I like to think of myself as a whirlwind of fun."
"A whirlwind, huh?" I teased, shifting a little closer. "Well, I might need a few more lessons in surviving your chaos."
"Survival skills, huh?" she said, her voice low with a hint of mischief. "I think I can teach you a thing or two."
I leaned in, just a little closer, feeling the warmth of her proximity. "Well, I'm a quick learner" I said, the air between us thickening just a bit.
She met my gaze, her lips curling into a slow, teasing smile. "Good. Because I'm about to show you just how wild things can get."
And just like that, the playful energy between us shifted again, but this time, it didn't feel like a game. It felt like something else entirely, a deeper kind of connection that was almost too easy to slip into.
Before I could process it, she leaned in first, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that was somehow both soft and intense, like everything I didn't know I was missing had suddenly found its place.
When we pulled apart, both of us breathing a little faster, I couldn't help but smile. "I guess you weren't kidding about being a whirlwind."
Billie grinned, eyes sparkling. "You have no idea, Griffith."
I didn't need any more words after that.