Beneath the Blue Ice
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Donna Richards
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2.1M
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44
1: Chapter 1
NATASHA
I pulled up in front of the house, my heart thumping in my chest. This was it—the place I’d be calling home for the next three years. I spotted Evie, my best friend, waving like a maniac from the front porch.
I never thought I’d end up back in Boston, but life has a way of flipping everything upside down.
Evie had offered me her spare room in the house she shared with her older brother, Layson. It was perfect—close to campus, close to my mom.
I turned off the engine and barely had time to open my door before Evie came barreling down the walkway, arms wide.
She wrapped me in a hug so tight I could barely breathe. “I missed you!” she squealed. “How was the drive from New York?”
“It wasn’t too bad,” I said, trying to sound casual, even though my legs still felt wobbly from the trip.
Evie pulled back. “How’s your mom?”
I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “She was okay when I saw her earlier. Some days are harder than others, but she’s hanging in there.”
Evie squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry. My mom’s been over there almost every day, keeping her company.”
I smiled, feeling a little lighter. It was going to be tough being back, but at least I’d be close to my mom.
“Leave your stuff. Layson can grab it for you,” Evie said, already heading for the door.
I shook my head. “No, really, I can do it.”
She shot me a look, raising her eyebrows. “What’s the point of having an older brother if he doesn’t do the heavy lifting?”
I laughed, letting her pull me up the path and into the house. She closed the door behind us, and I took a second to look around.
The place was way cleaner than I expected—especially knowing Evie. Her room used to look like a tornado had hit it when we were kids.
She linked her arm through mine and led me into the living room. “So, this is the living room. Layson’s hockey friends come over sometimes, but they’re not too messy. And they’re actually pretty nice.”
The room was big and bright, with light gray walls and charcoal couches that looked way too nice for college students. A white, marble-looking coffee table sat in the middle, and the TV was mounted on the wall.
I couldn’t help but grin. Evie, living in a spotless house? Miracles do happen.
We walked through the hallway into the kitchen. That’s when I noticed the fridge door was open.
It closed with a soft thud, and there was Layson—shirtless, holding a bottle of water, a cocky grin on his face.
“Look at you, Blue. All grown up. What’s it been—three years?” he teased.
I’d met Layson when he and Evie moved to Boston seven years ago. He was two years older, already obsessed with hockey.
They moved in next door, and Evie and I became inseparable. We were always at each other’s houses, practically sisters.
Layson moved to campus when he started college, but when Evie turned eighteen, their mom bought them this house so they could both be close to school.
It was sweet, really. Their mom wanted to make sure Evie was taken care of, and Layson was always the protective big brother.
He’d called me Blue since the day we met, and I never really knew why. I had a theory, though—it was easier for him to give girls nicknames than to remember all their names.
There were a lot of girls, after all.
Evie rolled her eyes. “Do you think you could put a shirt on, at least while you’re in the house?”
Layson just laughed, rubbing his hand over his stubbly chin. I caught him looking me up and down, and my cheeks went hot.
I shifted my weight, trying not to stare at his abs, but it was impossible. The way his dark hair fell into his eyes, the way his smile made you feel like you were the only person in the room—it was no wonder girls fell for him.
Evie nudged me, and I nearly tripped. Get it together, Natasha.
Layson grinned, grabbing his T-shirt and tossing it over his shoulder. “See you around, Blue,” he said, his voice full of mischief as he brushed past me.
Oh God. I can’t believe I was just drooling over him. He definitely noticed. And now he’s going to let it go straight to his already massive ego.
“Ugh, my brother is such a creep,” she said, spinning back around to face me. “And don’t even start with that look—he’s really not that cute.”
She grinned, her voice all bright and bouncy. “Come on, let’s get you to your room.”
The first time I met Layson, I had the most ridiculous crush. Like, full-on, heart-thumping, can’t-breathe kind of crush.
But of course, he only ever saw me as his little sister’s friend. Not that it mattered—Layson wasn’t exactly boyfriend material.
He was more of a casual hookup kind of guy. Even if he did look at me twice, I’d never let myself be just another girl he forgot about. No way. I had more self-respect than that.
***
Evie finished showing me around the house, then rushed off to campus, leaving me alone. I slipped off my black cropped denim jacket and tossed it onto the chair, then sat on the edge of the bed, taking in the room.
Thank God she listened when I begged her not to paint it pink. She was obsessed with that color—her notebooks, her pens, even her socks were always some shade of pink.
Instead, she picked this soft gray-violet. It was perfect. It felt like me.
I still needed to grab my stuff from the car, and there was no way I was asking Layson for help. He’d probably make some joke or expect a favor in return.
I forced myself up from the bed, sighing as I headed for the door.
An hour later, I was dragging the last box from my trunk, practically hugging it to my chest as I tried to close the car with my elbow. Why did I pack so much in this one?
I didn’t even see Layson until I nearly crashed into him. The box was the only thing that kept me from face-planting right into his chest.
“Blue, give me the box.” His hands brushed mine as he took it, and my heart did this weird little skip. My cheeks were on fire. I cleared my throat and tucked my long, messy blonde curls behind my ears.
“I can carry my own boxes, you know.” I tried to grab it back, but he just moved it out of reach.
He laughed, easy and warm. “Relax. I never said you couldn’t. I just would’ve helped.”
“I managed the others just fine,” I said, trying to sound tough.
He shrugged, his voice softer.
“You could’ve asked. I would’ve come right down.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, shifting my weight.
“I’m not some damsel in distress you can swoop in and save.”
He grinned.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Blue.” Then he turned and headed for the house, box in hand.
I rolled my eyes again, but followed him inside.
When we got to my room, I opened the door and let him in.
He set the box down, but his eyes landed on my desk.
“Still attached to your pen and notepad, huh?” he teased.
He used to make fun of me for always scribbling in my notebook. He’d joke that I’d end up with ink all over my hands and face.
I crossed my arms.
“Well, not everyone can be a star athlete.”
He held up his hands in surrender, but then he stepped closer, brushing a few stray curls from my face.
His fingers lingered, just for a second.
“I don’t know, Blue…” His eyes locked on mine. “I bet you’d be amazing to watch on the ice.” He tucked the hair behind my ear, then slipped out of the room before I could even breathe.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the door.
My heart was racing. My mouth felt dry.
I pressed my hands to my face and flopped back onto the mattress.
This is going to be a long three years.
