Chapter 8- Cold Fronts
1150 Words
The temperature significantly drops before I even look at the glowing screen of my phone. Harper has turned to marble beneath my palm. The fragile girl melting into my chest is immediately gone. The Holloway heiress is back, the one whose smiles don’t reach her eyes.
But only for a moment.
When the cameras start flashing again, she looks like someone who’s hopelessly in love. I wonder how she’s able to do it within a blink of an eye. Her fingers clutch at the fabric of my shirt, but I’m the only one who knows that they’re stiff and hard, ready to claw at me.
“Let’s keep dancing for them,” she whispers, and I can hear the command in her words. “Don’t look at your phone when you’re supposed to be focused on me.”
She’s got me there. Whatever else Emma has to say can wait, even if it rattles me. The woman is delusional.
“Harper,” I growl softly. “The text. It’s -”
“I read it,” she snaps but her voice is low and her smile is intact. “Now, guide me gracefully off the dance floor as if you’re concerned about my well-being. That you don’t want people to stare at me too much.”
What she is saying is what I should expect from a partner in crime, but I hate it. I hate that she slams her massive wall between us not long after she defended me to Sterling. Not long after she eases into me as if she belongs in my arms.
Harper Holloway was warming to me.
Then, she goes icy cold once more.
It’s nothing but business, I remind myself. After this, we go back to our own little corners, presenting a different story of why we have to break up but are still good friends.
The music reaches its end. Applause erupts in the ballroom. I am glad that I’ve somehow matched half her grace and elegance. She beams at me, her eyes too narrow for anyone to really read what they say. It’s a good thing I am able to anticipate her turn. So, when she does, I do the same thing as if we’re in sync.
Alexa awaits us on the edge of the dance floor. I don’t like how the two seem to read each other’s minds. I suspect Harper’s friend does not like me on principle, but I seem to have given her more reason to hate me.
“We need to go,” Alexa murmurs. “Now.”
She rapidly walks towards the exit, while Harper and I follow her in confusion. Alexa’s eyes keep on darting at Harper.
“Wait,” I say, stretching an arm in front of me. The two women pause and watch me expectantly. Suddenly, I am not too steady. Why is Alexa looking at Harper as if she’s addressing only her friend? “Are you trying to get Harper to go with you? She’s with me, and it won’t look good if we leave separately.”
“Won’t look good?” Alexa echoes. “Why is that? Is that because a certain Emma Rhodes is claiming that all of this is fake?”
“Wait, what?” I ask, at the same time Harper gasps, “What?”
“Miss Rhodes sent me a text,” Alexa says. “It looks like she is about to go public with her accusation. So, you two better tell me what’s going on.”
“What’s going on? Alexa, do you believe that woman?” Harper asks. I’m surprised that she is sticking with her story in front of her best friend.
“Really? You two need me right now,” her friend grits out. “I’m serious.”
“My dad planned it all along,” Harper whispers harshly. I groan. This is the beginning of the end, and I’m pretty sure we are still on the first chapter. “Listen. We need this to work. And Emma Rhodes? She’s lying. She’s not Silas’s girlfriend.”
“Really?” Alexa asks, folding her arms across her chest and raising an eyebrow at me. “Do you really believe him? He’s the Butcher, for God’s sake, Harper. He’s known for being a player on the sheets and a violent enforcer on the ice.”
I clench my jaw. I want to tell Alexa so many things right now, but my reasons are my own and I don’t have to spill them out just because I have gotten defensive.
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” I grumble.
“Oh, so you didn’t just make it clear that you don’t do relationships and f****d a lot of puck bunnies through the years?” Alexa asks, her voice controlled. She’s keeping her voice down not for me, but for her friend, I remind myself.
“You said so yourself. Therefore, Emma Rhodes is an anomaly. She is not my girlfriend, nor was she ever.”
Alexa casts her eyes heavenward, her hands on her hips. Then, she sighs as she looks back at me.
“Then, how do you two plan to sell this well?” she asks.
“I’m apparently not like all the other girls,” Harper retorts sarcastically. “I also have my own PR nightmare to tend to.”
“That’s right. So, Vane, if I do help the two of you out, it’s because I know Harper here is much kinder than the press often describes her. It’s unfair.”
Harper blushes at that.
It makes me wonder then just how much of what she is like in public is a lie. I know how things can appear. Don’t get me wrong. I really did f**k a lot of women in my life. I was also rough on the ice.
But the reasons?
Damn it. A woman’s face pops in my head, and my chest aches at the reminder of who I am. If people knew who I truly am, they may confirm their fears - that I am a f*****g monster.
“So, you have secrets, too, Holloway,” I murmur, instead. “I like that. Let us keep things interesting.”
“Oh, you’ll make things interesting alright, Vane,” Alexa agrees grimly. “Let’s go to my house and talk. Do your friends know about this?”
“Chase and Eddie?” I huff a laugh. “I am not sure those two can lie to save their lives.”
“Oh, some people can surprise you,” Alexa mutters, as she watches her phone. Her eyes widen. “Someone sent me a picture of your Emma Rhodes.”
“And?” Harper prods.
“Silas, I think you may be in more trouble than you think you are.”
What else kind of trouble will I be in?
- Writer
