Break the Ice

by Piper Rayne

  “What makes you think I’m staying in Chicago?”

  “I saw the letter. I saw the girls congratulating you.”

  She shrugs in an ‘okay, you have a point.’

  “Anyway—”

  “Why do you think I’d still see you even if you are here?”

  Her position hasn’t changed. She’s closed off and I can’t say I blame her. I used to be the same way. Until she taught me a better way.

  “I’m hoping with enough begging you will.”

  Another shrug and she crosses her arms in front of her chest.

  “I know you don’t want to hear I’m sorry, so let me try to phrase it differently. I want you. I need you. I could sit here all night and grovel for you to accept me back into your life. To take the chance and move on, but honestly, there’s only really one thing I want to do tonight.”

  “What’s that?”

  I fall to my knee, opening the ring box that holds the engagement ring I bought after I landed. I pop open the box and her arms fall to her sides.

  “No, Beck. Don’t.”

  “Now, Sky, is that the story you want to tell our grandchildren one day? That I fell on bended knee and you told me to get up?”

  Her lips tick up but quickly fall back straight.

  “Don’t do this just to keep me in your life.”

  I leave the ring box on the table, sliding across the floor, clearing a path through the rose petals. “You are so special. You’ve always been special. It’s always been you. The one who taught my battered heart to trust and to love. See, Sky, I grew up always feeling like I wasn’t worth sticking around for. I was so worried you were going to find out what an idiot I was. That I wasn’t worth your time. That’d I mess this up somehow, and the fact that I made you feel that way...” I run a hand through my hair. “This ring isn’t because I want you in my life. I mean, I do, but I’m not proposing to you because I think I have to. I want to cherish you, nurture you, start a family, and make a home together because if we’re going to do this, we’re going all in. We already know everything there is to know about one another. We’re putting everything on the line, all our stakes on the table and I’d never bet against us because me and you, we’re meant to be together.”

  I blow out a breath after my declaration, hoping my rambling made halfway sense.

  “Ask me again?” she says, her voice soft.

  I dare a smile and pluck the ring out the box. The two-karat pear shape diamond sparkles on the silver band. It’s simple and elegant and suits her perfectly.

  “Skylar Walsh, will you please marry me?”

  She looks at the ring and purses her lips. “I have three conditions.”

  I chuckle. “Sure.”

  “Do you, Beckett Myers, promise to never run away again?”

  “Only if you’re chasing me with a butcher knife.”

  She nods. “Do you, Beckett Myers, promise to never have to say sorry to me again?”

  “Well, I could, but I’d hate to start our life with a lie. I’m gonna fuck-up, you know that.”

  She nods, accepting my answer.

  “Last condition, Beckett Myers. Do you promise to never rent or buy a piece of housing without talking to me first?”

  “Why? This is perfect. The university is right over there.”

  She drops to her knees and places her hands on my cheeks. “I’m not sure why we need to be by the university when I’ll be skiing in Park City.”

  “What?” I pull back, wide-eyed.

  “I’m not retiring. Not yet.”

  “Shit, I guess I need to sublet this place.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Sky, will you be my wife? Put me out of my misery.”

  She holds out her left hand and I place the ring on it, the fit perfect. I’ll have to thank Mia for sneaking into her room to scour her jewelry box and find her ring size.

  “All right Myers, you’re mine.”

  “No, you’re mine.” I smash my lips to her mouth and she giggles as we fall to the floor.

  It might’ve taken me forever to get here, but with Skylar in my arms, I can’t be upset because I ended up exactly where I should’ve been the entire time.

  Epilogue

  Skylar

  Four Months Later…

  I stand in front of the mirror, my white dress puffing out into a million layers, my bodice beaded down to my waist.

  “I still say you should’ve planned it like most people do. This whole whirlwind wedding stuff is a lot.” Chelsea sits down on the couch, her blue dress shining and complimentary to her skin tone. “And I know you say I’ll wear this dress again, but I’m calling bullshit, I won’t. And you’ll never wear the one I made you wear.”

  I’m surprised Chels is bringing up her brief but volatile marriage since she always seems to prefer to pretend like it never happened.

  “Note taken, but I have to say, mine is ten times more beautiful than the pink number you put me in.”

  I continue staring at myself in the mirror. Surprised I’m here. Surprised it’s Beckett. Surprised my last name will be Myers. Well legally, not professionally. I gotta win that gold with Walsh, it means something.

  “Your groom is ten times better, too.”

  “I won’t fight you on that. He’s slow out of the gate, but he sure knows how to make up ground.”

  “That’s where I went wrong. Mine was fast out of the gate and then didn’t know which lane he should stay in.”

  I laugh then grow quiet, checking off a mental checklist in my mind and making sure everything is taken care of. “Why did we rush again?” I ask, my nerves getting the better of me.

  “It wasn’t a rush. It was four years too late.” Demi saunters in, my veil in her hands. Her eyes catch mine in the mirror. Neither her or Mia was upset in any way that I beat them to the altar.

  “Thanks,” I whisper.

  “You know I can’t lie.” She laughs and positions my veil perfectly on top of my head. “Rumor has it that Vin threatened Beckett that if he runs, he’ll cut his balls off and then his dick inch by painful inch.”

  “That’s some real Dexter shit. Make sure I never get on his bad side.” Chelsea grabs a glass of champagne.

  “No baby though, right?” Chelsea asks again. Demi frowns in the mirror probably wondering why my cousin is giving me so much shit before saying I do, but I don’t care. I should’ve done the exact same for her.

  I assumed she was happy. I assumed he treated her right. I’ll never assume anything again.

  “No baby,” I say, shaking my head in amusement.

  And there won’t be until after the next Classics. One, because it might just put Beckett over the edge and two, I want time with my husband, just the two of us.

  “Okay, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Your groom is looking hot up at that altar. Not as hot as my man, but he won’t stand up there forever.” Mia holds up her long matching blue dress as she walks into the bridal room.

  Yeah, he will.

  My parents walk in while the girls are telling me how beautiful I am and how wonderful Beckett is. Reconfirming that I’m making the right decision.

  “Thanks girls, I’ll see you in a few.”

  They file out and my parents—who aren’t in the loop on what happened four months ago between us—still think Beckett is perfect, as they should, and are happy to welcome a new son-in-law into the family.

  “You look beautiful, sweetie.” My mom steps forward, gripping both of my hands in hers. “Your dad and I just wanted to make sure you’re ready for one of the biggest decisions in your life. We know you and Beckett have known each other for a long time, but a four-month engagement...” She continues, but I’ve heard it over and over again for the past four months. Why couldn’t I give her a nice long engagement where she could plan for four hundred guests, a seven-course meal, and book the most spectacular place in Chicago?

  Beckett was adamant though, that he wanted me as his wife right away. I think that fear that he�
�s not worthy still lives inside of him a little, but he’s yet to admit it. Hopefully, in time, that fear will wither away and die as I smother it with love.

  “Mom,” I say, and she stops her rambling. “I love Beckett and he loves me. There’s no baby on the way. There are no citizenship issues. There’s no pressure on either of us to marry the other. We love each other and we want to be legally bound, that’s all.”

  She squeezes my hands, appeased with my answer. “Okay, I’ll see you down there. Your brother is already halfway in the bag and he has to walk me down the aisle before standing next to Beckett. I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  She leaves the room and I release a breath knowing my dad isn’t going to ask me questions. He knows I’m making the best decision. He knows Beckett is the only one for me. I’m pretty sure he thinks of him as his son already.

  “Remember, you’re always a Walsh.” He holds out his arm to me and I slide mine through his.

  “I know.”

  It’s hard to give up your name, a name that’s been a part of you for so long. I jokingly asked Beckett one night if he’d take my name. Yeah, that was a hard no. It’s his last connection to his parents, whoever they are. Although I hate them as much as he does, I can’t help but wonder if he would’ve turned out differently if his story were different. If my parents would have left me in front of a fire station when I was barely out of my mother’s womb, I don’t know how much self-worth or how trusting I’d be with people.

  We round the corner and the music starts. Molly and Caiden start their walk up the aisle and Caiden dips his hand into the basket his sister is carrying to throw the flowers. Molly slaps it. Caiden cries. I never expected the perfect wedding.

  I catch a glimpse of Beckett through the church stained window at the top of the aisle, dipping his own hand into the basket and handing some to Caiden while he talks to Molly. Zoe glances back at me, a smile on her lips.

  Yeah, I’m a lucky girl.

  By the time I’m standing at the entrance to the church, Beckett’s eyes are completely on me, the love he feels pouring out of them. That love was always there, but it was clouded over with fear. It’s now there, shining through in its purest form and as I step forward toward him and crinkle the letter he gave me that I’ve wrapped around the bottom of my bouquet, I don’t regret the heartbreak we put each other through because it was our enduring love that brought us to this moment.

  * * *

  Skylar,

  * * *

  Four years ago, I sought you out. You were such a nice person you never noticed how I hung around every time you went to the bar or the cafeteria at the village. I was drawn to you, your friendly smiles and kind words. I can’t explain it, it was this pull you had over me, and it was soul deep. Once I had the smallest bit of your attention, I only craved more. Over the course of the past four years, you’ve made me a better person. You’re the first person who could make me forget about my past and the burden I used to carry on my shoulders didn’t feel so heavy anymore. In your eyes, I’m someone who is worthy of you. Sometimes, falsely, I lose myself and believe that to be true as well. I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry for ruining what we had, but honestly, I never deserved you to begin with.

  I’m heading back to Utah today. I wish you the best in grad school and I’ll miss you on the team. I know my opinion probably means nothing right now, but Skylar, you’re an amazing skier and the sport will be losing something special if you retire. Just think about it. It’s one decision you can’t turn back on.

  The time we spent together was some of the best in my life and there will be a persistent piece of me missing without you by my side. But my wish for you is that you find true happiness and the person who makes you feel the way you’ve always made me feel…like anything is possible with that person by your side.

  * * *

  Love,

  Beckett

  My eyes water as I think of the words he wrote to me that day because I did find that someone. And he was here with me all along.

  When Beckett takes my hand as my father passes it over, he squeezes it and smiles, and I have no worries about our future together. We’ll ride through the peaks and valleys together as one, just like we always have.

  The End

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  This is the start of an amazing new chapter in my life. At least that’s what I keep reminding myself. How else will I get through today without curling up into a ball in my bed and feeling like the world’s biggest loser?

  I reach my friend Tahlia’s apartment door and knock. Seconds later the door is whipped open and there stands one of my oldest, prettiest, richest friends. But I love her despite her perfect life.

  She smiles wide and her blue eyes sparkle. “I’m so happy you’re home,” Tahlia says as she envelops me in a hug before dragging me through the door. She still smells like the expensive perfume she’s worn since high school.

  “Me, too.” For the most part, that’s true. Returning to San Francisco, the city I grew up in, is a welcome change. I never quite made the same connections in Sacramento that I had with the girls I’d known since junior high.

  Returning to the house I was raised in, which also happens to house two seventy-somethings? Not so stellar. But beggars can’t be choosers, as they say, and I was one bad decision away from being penniless and selling my body on a street corner.

  “Ah! Is that Whit?” Lennon screams from the living room. Before I can blink she’s bounding down the hallway toward me, her cropped near-black hair bouncing as she does, the tattoos covering her arms a blur as she flails her limbs around like she’s preparing for take-off.

  “You look like an interpretive dancer on crack,” I say with a laugh as she barrels into me.

  She squeezes me tight and then pulls away. “Really?” She turns the corners of her mouth down. “I’ve been trying so hard to lay off the crack. I’m pretty much just sticking to meth now.”

  I roll my eyes at the most outgoing and insane of my two best friends.

  Some things you need to know about Lennon are that she’s rarely serious, is always pushing you out of your comfort zone, and prides herself on being able to tie a cherry stem with her tongue in ten seconds flat. Enough said.

  “Someone who didn’t know you might just believe you,” Tahlia says as she pulls her blonde hair back into a ponytail with an elastic she has around her wrist. She’s still wearing her suit so she must’ve just gotten home from work at her father’s company.

  Must be nice. The work part, I mean, not the working for her father part, because that man could be Tony Soprano’s half-brother, minus the Mob. At least I think so.

  “Like I’d care,” Lennon mumbles as she heads back the way she came.

  “I’m going to change out of this outfit,” Tahlia says. “Head on in and pour yourself a glass of wine. I stopped and picked up some appetizers for us. They’re laid out on the table in the living room.”

  “Awesome. I could use something to dull the edges of the fact that I moved back into my grandparents’ house this afternoon.”

  She gives me a sympathetic head tilt and rubs my back before we start down the hall. “It’s only temporary, Whit. You’ll be on your feet again in no time.”

  “Or on your knees. If you’re lucky,” Lennon calls out.

  We’re both laughing as Tahlia turns right to head to her bedroom and I move the opposite direction in search of the alcohol.

  Her condo isn’t huge, but it’s modern and sleek and I’m sure must cost her more than I made in a month, since it’s in downtown San Francisco. Glass walls showcase the city lights beneath us and, coupled with the open-concept design of the kitchen, living, and dining room areas, the space feels airy and light.

  Lennon and I catch up for a few minutes while we wait for Tahlia t
o rejoin us. As usual, her antics equally make me laugh and cringe. We all went to college in the Bay area and kept in touch through college. After college I left town to take a job at the local Sacramento newspaper, but there’s something comforting about knowing I’ll be seeing them on the regular now that I’ve returned to my hometown. We’re back to being the three amigos, as unlikely as our group is, given our differing personalities.

  Tahlia enters the kitchen with a strange expression on her face. I’ve known her long enough to see that she’s trying to suppress a grin. There’s something she’s keeping from us. With anyone else I’d start prying, but she’s like an overstuffed vault filled with confetti. If we give her enough time she won’t be able to stand it and it will all come bursting out.

  After she’s poured herself a glass of wine the three of us head into her living room, where Lennon makes herself comfortable on Tahlia’s brown leather chair while Tahl and I opt to sit on the cream suede couch.

  A small tray of pristine-looking appetizers sits on the circular coffee table accompanied by small plates and napkins. I honestly don’t know why Tahlia wastes her talents at her father’s company. She’d be an amazing event planner. I know her mother drilled into her the importance of entertaining properly since birth, but she has a natural knack for making everyone around her comfortable and creating a memorable experience when you’re in her care.

  “Any luck on the job front?” she asks before setting her wine glass down on the table with an exaggerated flourish.

  “Nothing yet. I plan on applying for anything and everything I’m qualified for tomorrow, though.”

  “If you’re really stuck I know a guy who might be looking for someone,” Lennon says as she shoves one of the appetizers into her mouth. “I can’t promise it would all be entirely legal, but—”