“I’m offended,” I say, slow and deliberate. “Creepers hide. I’m right here, out in the open, watching you now.”
She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Your practice ended a while ago,” I say, gesturing toward some of the girls on her team who are starting to file out of the locker room. “I think I’m doing everyone a favor.”
“By what, ogling me?” She bites her bottom lip to keep from laughing, and I think now is the first time that I realize shedoesn’t think that’s a possibility. I’ve gone so far out of my way to cover up the fact that I’m literally obsessed with her, that she doesn’t think that I’m attracted to her. She thinks I look after her out of obligation to Adam.
“I’m just making sure none of the guys get too close.” I lean in just enough to make her flinch. Not out of fear, never that, but instead because she’s too aware of me. “It’s a hassle cleaning blood off of ice, you know.”
“Oh please,” she mutters, cheeks heating. “Like anyone’s interested.”
I sober for a second because it never occurred to me that by sabotaging every date she’s ever been invited on before it can happen, she might feel undesirable. She’s literally the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, but I realize now that maybe she thinks she’s been stood up by those fuckers I threatened. Beat up. Murdered in cold blood. It’s all semantics and doesn’t really matter. They were deterred, and that’s the point.
I change the subject, leaning on the side of the rink. All I want to do is scoop her up in my arms and make whatever has her eyes looking worried go away. “What’s wrong? It’s something. I could see it the entire time you were skating. A test? Is a professor bothering you because I can?—”
She hesitates, then sighs. “You always do this.”
“Do what?”
She softens slightly, just enough to let me see the edges of whatever she’s hiding. “You always know,” she murmurs, voice low. “When something’s wrong. It’s freaky.”
I shrug, casual. “You’re easy to read.”
“No one else ever notices,” she says, not looking at me. “Not even my brother. But you—” She shakes her head. “You always ask.”
And I always will.
“What’s going on?” I ask, quieter now. “I’m not leaving until you tell me.”
She sighs, leaning her elbow on the ledge of the boards. “My parents are trying to push me into getting engaged.”
I freeze. “To who?” To fucking who? She’s never been on one date. I would know. I fucking stalk her every hour of the day.
“Vincent Warshaw,” she says flatly. “The son of one of Dad’s business partners. I’ve never even met him, which is mostly because I’ve been avoiding everyone. Mom says it’s because I have no direction and he’d be good for me, but it just feels…off. I know Dad has been having trouble with a couple of his companies, and I don’t want to think that he’d push me to do this to soothe some kind of bad business deal, but?—”
I clear my throat, cutting her off because I have no words. I stare at her because I feel something uncoil in my chest and lurch up into my throat. “Are they serious? This has to be a joke. Adam hasn’t said anything to me.” Actually, Adam hasn’t said anything to me about anything lately. He’s always out partying or down at the casino. To be honest, looking out for Lilac is a full-time job, so I haven’t really tried to hang out with him lately either.
“They’realwaysserious.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s just control. They think if they pick the guy, they can manage me better. Adam agrees with them. He’s been weird about it, too. You know he never cared what I do or with who as long as I wasn’t killing his vibe. But lately he’s been showing up, trying to get me to go home for a long weekend to meet Vincent.”
Well, that solidifies it. I’m gonna have to add killing my childhood best friend to my list of crimes. “And you’re just… what? Supposed to go along with it?”
“I guess so,” she mutters. “I thought about telling them I had a boyfriend, but, well…” She glances at me, eyes a little sad now. “That plan’s harder than it looks.”
I frown, but my brain is fucking short circuiting right now. “Why?”
“Because guys flake.” She shrugs. “They cancel. Disappear. Every date I’ve been invited to go on ends before it even starts. I’m starting to think I’m putting bad vibes out into the universe.”
I don’t say anything. Ican’tsay anything.
Because I’m the fucking reason.
Every flaked date? Every guy who bailed last minute or “forgot”? That was me. A well-timed message. A quiet threat. A look. A push in the hallway. Sometimes they mouthed off or said something about her not being worth that hassle of dealing with me. Lilac is worth everything in this fucked up world, so they had to die.
Lilac doesn’t know any of this. She can’t know.
She smiles, soft and self-deprecating. “I know I’m not some beauty queen, but it’d be nice to get through one date without being ghosted. Maybe then Mom wouldn’t be disappointed, and Dad wouldn’t be pulling from his payroll to get me a date.”
“You are beautiful, and I won’t let you say anything different.” She really, truly fucking is. She’s fucking radiant. And none of them deserve to even look at her.
