At first, I assumed she was just having a bad day. We all had them. The second day, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t want to be unreasonable or demanding. But now it was after eight p.m. on the fourth day of this shit. I had still barely spoken to her, and not for lack of trying.

I hadn’t understood when Ward didn’t know what was up with him and Shiv. Now I was eating my words with a fucking fork because I had no idea what was going on with Bailey. I’d flat-out asked her, and she said everything was fine.

It clearly wasn’t.

Worse still, I didn’t know why.

All day, I’d been distracted as hell. School had been a wash, and practice was a tire fire. After I got off the ice, I’d received a stern reprimand from Coach Miller for botching nearly every drill. And some of them were incredibly straightforward. Skate straight and shoot, that kind of thing. It was downright embarrassing.

It didn’t help that she was everywhere. In my brain, in my bed, in my truck, in the dressing room, in the corner of the goddamn rink.

Fuck this.

37. count on it

CHAPTER 37

COUNT ON IT

Chase

If she wouldn’t come to me, then I would go to her.

After blatantly disregarding the speed limit and one questionable four-way stop, I made it over to Bailey’s complex and parked haphazardly in the visitor zone. I killed the engine and slammed the driver’s side door, then speed-walked over to her place like a heat-seeking missile.

I sprinted up the steps and came to a screeching halt in front of the navy blue door, staring at the scattered scratches and scuffs in the paint. Doing my best to center myself, I drew in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before exhaling heavily through my nose, getting my head on straight like I was heading onto the ice.

It didn’t work. At all.

Rolling my shoulders back, I rang the bell and followed it up by pounding on the front door like a cop with a warrant. I hoped she was home studying like she said, because I needed an explanation. Stat.

The lock rattled, and the door opened a crack. A sliver of Jillian’s face appeared. “What do you want, Carter?”

For you to get the fuck out of the way, but I couldn’t use my outside voice for that sentiment.

“I need to talk to Bailey.” I nodded at the door. “Let me in.”

Jillian swung open the door, revealing Amelia standing beside her. They eyed me disdainfully, like two partners in snottiness. They didn’t like me, and the feeling was more than mutual.

“B would let you know if she wanted to talk to you,” Amelia said, giving me a death stare.