"It is." I focus on perfecting my snowman's face, using pebbles from the landscaping for eyes. "You've been busy. Three teams, two championships. Pretty impressive."
He stops working and stares at me. "You followed my career?"
Heat floods my cheeks, and I'm grateful for the darkness hiding my blush.
"Iron Ridge follows all its hometown heroes. It's not like I had a choice. Your face was on the front page of theIron Ridge Gazetteevery time you won something."
And that's not even counting how Eli nearly broke the ceiling fan at Ridgeview when he jumped on the bar during Ryder's first championship. The man screamed "THAT'S MY BOY!" so loud they probably heard him in Canada, then poured free drinks until 2 AM.
For someone who claims the Icehawks are the only team worth following, that scrapbook he keeps behind the bar sure has a lot of Ryder's clippings glued inside it.
"Mia." His voice is softer now. "Did you... I mean, were you proud of me? Even a little?"
The honest question in his voice makes my chest tight, like someone's wrapped their fist around my heart and squeezed. His hazel eyes are fixed on me with that earnest, hopeful expression. Even in the dim moonlight reflecting off the snow, I can see the vulnerability written across his features, waiting for an answer that means more to him than it should after all this time.
"Of course I was proud of you, Ryder. I always knew you'd make it big."
"But…?"
I sigh, sitting back in the snow. "But it wasn't what I thought it would be. Watching you succeed without me. It was like... like watching someone else live the life I thought we'd have together."
Ryder slumps down in the snow beside his half-finished snowman, wrapping his arms around his knees and staring off toward the dark mountains. The way his shoulders curve inward makes him look younger somehow, like the eighteen-year-old boy who used to sit exactly like this when something was eating at him.
"It wasn't what I thought it would be either," he admits quietly. "Debuting in the NHL, I mean."
"What do you mean? You got everything you wanted."
"Did I?" He abandons his snowman and comes to sit beside me in the snow. "Yeah, I played professional hockey. Made more money than I knew what to do with. Had my name in lights and fans screaming when I stepped on the ice."
"Sounds terrible," I say dryly.
"It wasempty, Mia." His voice is raw with honesty. "Every goal, every win, every trophy... It was great… but I kept looking for you in the crowd. Kept wanting to call you and share it with you." He sighs so heavily steam swirls in the night sky. "But I'd fucked up so badly, I didn't think I had the right."
My throat constricts. "Ryder..."
"The only time it felt real was when I came back here. To Iron Ridge." He looks at me, and there's something vulnerable in his expression. "Being back here, it's like I can finally breathe again. LikenowI have made it. Like I remember who I actually am."
Don't do this. Don't let him back in. You can't survive losing him again.
But my heart is already betraying me, melting like snow in sunshine.
"I tried to forget you," I whisper. "I dated other people. Told myself I was over it. Over you."
"And?"
"And I suck at lying to myself, apparently."
He laughs, but it's not entirely happy. "Same. Want to know something pathetic? I still have your old high school number memorized. The first one you had. Never changed it in my contacts. Just in case."
"That is pathetic." But I'm smiling despite myself. "Want to know something equally pathetic?"
"Always."
"I still wear your hoodie. The green one you left at my house senior year."
His eyes widen. "No way."
"Way. It's embarrassing, really. A grown woman wearing her high school boyfriend's clothes."
