Ice Cold - Chapter 39: Chapter 39

Landon Reilly
I didn't even get to play in the game against Harvard on Sunday afternoon. That was probably for the better. There was no way I'd have been able to focus on the ice, not with how much Wren was occupying my mind. The thought of him heartbroken and lonely hurt more than I cared to admit. And the fact that I caused it made me feel even worse.
I was the first one on the bus that would take us back to campus, not even bothering to wait for Rojas, but he was sure to find me as soon as he stepped on. Cooper was stuck up at the front of the bus with Coach, still in trouble from what had happened yesterday.
Rojas sat down beside me like I expect him to.
"You left the locker room pretty fast yesterday," he said. "You wanna tell me what the hell is going on with you and Cooper?"
No, I didn't want to tell him that at all. I wanted to forget it even happened and to forget Cooper even existed. I didn't need Rojas in my business about it either. There was nothing to be done about it other than move on.
"I heard from some of the guys that he's been saying that you kissed him? But I don't think that's true. It seems like it was the other way around," Rojas continued when I didn't answer.
"It doesn't matter," I muttered. Nothing mattered to me less at that moment. What mattered was that this fucking bus got moving so I could get back to Providence and back to Wren.
"It does though," Rojas replied. "I wish you'd have told me that he was messing with you."
"I don't need you trying to protect me." I was trying not to snap at him. He was the leader of the team, and he felt the need to make sure everything was good with the team. I knew what that felt like even if I epically failed at it.
"Don't think of it as protection," he said. "It's more like I got your back. I have everyone's backs. I don't want anyone on the team to be messed with or targeted."
Rojas was like what a captain should be; always looking out for everyone, making himself available to everyone if they needed him. It was what I should have been when I was captain of my own team in high school. But instead of doing that, I targeted Elijah because of my own deeply fucked up problems and made everyone on the team fear me instead of look up to me. It was something I would never be able to change, never be able to take back. And it was something I had to continue to learn to live with and make amends for.
"Cooper is a deeply insecure person," I muttered, looking out the window as the bus started to move. "As long as he stays away from me and stops talking about me then I'm good."
Rojas didn't say anything after that, and I was glad he wasn't going to make me spend the whole ride back to Providence talking. I put my earbuds in and turned my music up, willing the time to move faster.
The drive back to Providence was almost two hours and I felt every second of it. I could usually drift away on a long bus ride, but now that I was aching to get back it felt like eternity.
It was nearing eight o'clock in the evening by the time the bus finally pulled onto campus. I was up and out of my seat, practically mowing over Rojas in the process to get off this fucking bus. As I stood outside and waited for the compartment holding our things to be opened, Coach approached me.
"Reilly, I want to talk to you," he said, lowly enough so that only I would hear.
I mentally cursed at him, because of course he wanted to talk to me when all I wanted was to get the hell out of there.
"Sure, Coach," I mumbled, moving to grab my bag as soon as the bottom of the bus was opened. "What about?"
He shot me a knowing look because it was quite obvious what it was going to be about. I stood with Coach while he waited for everyone to grab their things and be on their way. Once everyone was leaving, he led me over to his car.
"I'm not going to tolerate what went on in the locker room with John," Coach said once we were at his car, calling Cooper by his first name.
I knew better than to try and make excuses and place blame. I just had to stand here and listen to whatever Coach had to say, then run over to the Brown campus like my life depended on it.
"I've suspended John from the team until further notice," Coach continued, and I cringed at what that could mean for me.
If he was going to suspend me from the team, that would most likely affect my scholarship, and there was no way I was affording to stay here without it.
I was panicking. It momentarily made me forget about going to Wren.
"Coach," I started in a rushed tone. "I'm here on scholarship for hockey and-"
"Calm down, Landon, I'm not suspending you," Coach interjected, holding his hand up for me to stop.
I let out a sigh of relief.
"But if he did anything to you, I need to know about it," Coach continued. "Anything other than what he did in the locker room because that will affect whether or not he comes back to the team at all."
I really didn't want to talk about this with Coach at all. I didn't care if Cooper played on the team or not, I just wanted him to leave me alone.
"He just doesn't like me," I told him. He looked at me with disbelief on his face, but didn't press me further.
"Alright, well if you can think of anything, anything at all that you think I should know, please feel free to tell me," Coach responded.
I nodded at him and the two of us said our goodbyes before I was rushing toward the Brown campus, lugging my bag on my shoulder. It was freezing out, my ears feeling like they were about to fall off.
When I got to Wren's building, I sent Jess a text hoping she would be at Stella's so she could come down and let me in. She was downstairs within a couple of minutes.
"What's up?" she asked as she threw open the door. "What happened to your face?"
"Nothing. Is Wren up there?" I asked, following her up the stairs.
"I don't know. I've been at Stella's," she said. "What, a few days away and you had a change of heart?" She said it with a teasing smile.
I sent her a tentative smile back.
"Something like that," I said.
Jess was the only one I had told about what had gone on with Wren, she was really the only one here I had apart from Wren.
The two of us got up to their floor and made our way down the hall to Stella's and Wren's rooms.
"Good luck," Jess whispered, squeezing my shoulder before letting herself back into Stella's room.
I let out a breath and knocked on Wren's door. The person I didn't want to see was the one that answered.
"Oh, thank God," James said, pulling me into the room.
I glanced around the room, but Wren was nowhere in sight. James released my arm and shut the door behind us.
"Where's Wren?" I asked, backing away from him slightly.
"No clue!" James replied. "He hasn't been here all weekend, but I'm sure he'll be back eventually. You need to talk some sense into him. He's been acting like a crazy person."
The last thing I wanted to do was sit around with James to wait for Wren, but that was my only option. I put my bag down under Wren's bed and sat down at his desk. He had things all over the desk, papers, pens, open books, notebooks. It was so uncharacteristic of him.
I started cleaning up the desk, putting the papers into a neat pile, putting the pens back into the cup where he held all his pens and pencils. I put his notebooks in a pile next to the papers and his books on the small shelf in the desk.
James was just watching me, and I sat there and pretended I didn't feel his stare even though it was pissing me off the longer it went on.
"Can I help you?" I snapped, looking up from the desk. He was standing over on his side of the room, leaning back against his bed.
James grinned over at me, and I hated that that reminded me of Wren.
"You don't like me very much," James stated. He said it like he already knew that, not like it was some new revelation. "If it's because of my history with Wren, you don't need to worry about it."
I was embarrassed that he could see right through me about this. It was obvious my problem with James had nothing to do with him and everything to do with my jealousy over him and Wren.
"Seriously, he doesn't like me the way he likes you, never has," James continued.
"I don't give a shit."
James's grin widened. "You clearly do."
I glared at him until I heard the door unlocking. My eyes immediately shot over to the door just in time to see Wren walk in with a bag slung over his shoulder.
"Now where have you been?" James asked him in a teasing tone. "We have a guest here who has been waiting for you."
Wren looked up from the floor and his eyes landed on me.
"Oh, hello," he said, shutting the door behind him.
I stood up from the desk chair, but I didn't move toward him. He seemed more closed off than usual, and he was clearly unprepared for me to be here waiting for him. I didn't want him to feel ambushed, but I needed to see him, to talk to him even if I was nervous about what the outcome would be. For all I knew, Wren could tell me he wanted nothing to do with me. He could, and probably would, deny what Fox had told me about him to save his pride and to keep me in the dark. He was never one to open up.
"Well, I'm going to head out," James said, giving me a look. "I'll see you guys later."
Wren stepped aside to let James out, but he didn't come any closer to me. The two of us stood in silence for a few moments until Wren finally spoke up.
"What happened to your face?" he asked, his eyes catching on my bruise.
"We can talk about that after," I said, starting toward him. "Wren, I-"
My breath caught for a moment. I was so caught up in trying to get to him, I didn't think about what I was going to say. What could I say, really? 'Sorry for pushing you away and causing you to be depressed, please take me back?' That was stupid.
He was looking at me expectantly, waiting for the rest of my sentence.
"I, uh, I talked to Fox while I was in Boston," I finished.
Wren looked shocked, and it was a look that I had never seen on him before. He was always good at hiding his surprise, though that could have been because not much surprised him.
"Did he hit you?" Wren asked in a low voice, his eyes narrowed and his hands in fists at his sides.
"No, we just talked. With Elijah too," I assured him. "Fox said something about Stella and James reaching out to him."
Wren rolled his eyes and came closer to me, setting his bag down beside mine under the bed.
"They were just being dramatic and so was he," Wren said.
He was a liar. I could tell he was acting strange. He could barely look at me when he usually had no problem with eye contact and giving me his full attention. His expression was strange like he was focusing too hard on keeping it neutral.
"Look, I want to- I want to talk about us," I said, stuttering a bit. I had no idea how to say what needed to be said, to make him want me back. Wren was always better at talking and he wasn't saying much.
"Us? What about us?" he asked.
"Well, I guess I wanna say I'm sorry for the way I reacted to what went down over Thanksgiving weekend," I started. "For pushing you away, avoiding you."
He just stared at me, saying nothing.
"I guess just a lot goes on in my head and it's so overwhelming sometimes," I continued, running my hand through my hair nervously. "I didn't want to cause shit between you and your family because you actually have a family that gives a shit about you. It just made me feel bad thinking about it. I felt like I wasn't good for you, I didn't know if you were actually serious about me."
I was laying it all out there and he was saying nothing. It made my nerves overbearing.
"Can you say something?" I asked, breathless. "Please."
"I suppose that's my fault," Wren finally said.
"No, it's-"
"It is," he interjected. "I made you feel that way. I made you feel insecure when I should have been clearer about my feelings."
It shocked me that he was admitting fault for this.
"I heard you tell Elijah we weren't serious," I said. I wanted him to know that I'd heard.
"I was lying," Wren admitted. "Sometimes lies are easier than the truth. They're easier to grapple with, they make you feel like you're actually in control of a situation even when you're not."
"Yeah," I agreed. I could understand that.
"But you mustn't apologize for the way you reacted," Wren said, finally looking at me with a soft gaze, with affection. "I was never angry at you for that."
"But you were upset," I replied. I had heard that he was more than upset, that he was heartbroken.
He shrugged. "I suppose I was. It seems you have taken a spot in my heart, and I was wholly unprepared for you leaving me."
It seemed I was always caught between wanting to strangle him and wanting to hold him. He was always so infuriating, speaking in a way like he was trying to confuse me or speak around the subject so that he wouldn't have to say exactly the way he was feeling. But this wasn't confusing, and I knew what he meant. Wren cared for me more than he ever wanted to, and me leaving him affected him more than he cared to admit.
"Landon," Wren said, my name melodic coming from his voice. "When you said you're not good enough for me, or for anyone, that you're still the same person you were before, I need you to know that's not true."
My mouth opened in disbelief at his words. I didn't know what I expected him to say, but it wasn't that.
"You are gentle, and kind, and sensitive," he continued, my shock increasing at every word. "You don't need to be alone to punish yourself."
Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them. No one had ever said anything like this to me, and I never expected it from Wren. It was overwhelming to hear. I felt like I was undeserving of his words, like they were lies he was trying to sell to me. But he looked so serious and sincere as he said them.
Wren came over to me as my tears were about to fall and caught them with his thumbs under my eyes.
We looked into each other's eyes for a moment, soaking each other in. There was so much said between us with no words exchanged. Most of it being I'm sorry. Forgive me. I want you. I need you.
Then I threw my arms around Wren and hugged him close to me. It took him a moment to respond, but he wrapped his arms around me and tightened them to hold me close. I rested my head on his shoulder. He leaned his head against mine. And the two of us stood there in each other's embrace for an indeterminate amount of time.
The two of us had never hugged like this. I didn't even know if the two of us had hugged ever, but I wished we had. I felt warm and cared for in his embrace. It felt like we were perfectly shaped for each other to hold.
Wren pulled back slightly, keeping his arms around me. I picked my head up to look at him, and he stared at the bruise on my face with a hard expression. He brought his hand up to my face and I flinched away.
"Let me look at it," he said softly, his touch light as a feather on my injured skin. "Are you going to tell me how this happened?"
"One of my teammates came at me in the locker room on Saturday," I told him. His eyes narrowed, his mouth turned down in a frown.
"Who?"
"Just some asshole. It's fine."
"It's not fine. Who?"
I sighed. "Remember that guy we saw outside the coffee shop one day?"
Wren nodded. "The same one I saw with you at the bar who left you there."
I barely even remembered that, but Wren had a sharp memory. Of course, he would remember something like that.
"Why did he do this?"
"He has it out for me. A while back I saw him one night when he was leaving a party, totally drunk off his ass, and he came onto me, actually kissed me, and now I guess he's all worried I'm going to out him to everyone, so he's been telling the whole team that I kissed him. He's just trying to look all tough in front of the team."
Wren's frown deepened, the hand not touching my face tightly gripped the back of my shirt.
"Wren, chill," I said. I could tell he was getting upset over this. I just wanted to move past it. "It's fine. I just want to forget about it and move on."
Wren's expression softened, his grip loosening on my shirt.
"So, are we... are we good?" I asked him, starting to feel self-conscious.
"Do you mean 'are we good' as in are we back together?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah I guess."
"That's what I would like," Wren replied.
"Okay, that's what I would like too."
"That's settled then," Wren said. And then he kissed me.
And at that moment kissing him felt as essential as breathing.