Nola Scott's POV
The tension in the car was thicker than fog. Ember sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out the window like the world outside could absorb her emotions. I wanted to say something comforting, anything to lift the weight off her shoulders, but the words lodged themselves at the back of my throat. Ember was not the type of person you could comfort with clichés. She needed time to process, even if it meant letting her simmer in silence.
The hum of the engine filled the void between us, accompanied only by the occasional sniffle that Ember tried to stifle. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. This was worse than I expected. I thought getting her to talk it out with JT would solve things, but all it seemed to do was stir up more heartbreak. The rawness of their exchange replayed in my head, and I winced. I didn't think there was a way to win this battle, they were both bleeding from wounds the other couldn't see.
I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She sat rigid, arms crossed defensively over her chest. Ember was the kind of person who felt everything with the intensity of a storm, but showing it to the world? That was a whole different story. Tonight, though, the cracks were showing.
"You okay?" I finally asked, my voice soft, careful not to poke the bear.
"Yeah," she whispered, though it was a lie.
I knew better than to push her, so I left it at that. Sometimes it was better to let her come to you rather than try to force her hand. We rode in silence for a while longer, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across her face. I wished I could reach across the console and fix whatever had broken between her and JT, but relationships weren't my specialty. I had my own messes to clean up.
---
By the time we pulled into our apartment complex, Ember's silence felt unbearable. I killed the engine and sat back, wondering if she would say anything, but she didn't. She just opened the door and slipped out into the night like a ghost, leaving me to follow. I watched her retreat into the apartment without a word, her shoulders sagging under the weight of emotions she didn't know how to express.
As I locked the car and trudged after her, I felt a knot of frustration tighten in my chest. It wasn't just JT and Ember's fallout it was everything. The practice stress. Worlds looming. My tangled mess of emotions regarding Miles. I had been so focused on skating and staying in control that I hadn't realized how deep I'd gotten into everyone else's problems too. And now it felt like the ground beneath me was shifting, fragile and unpredictable.
When I finally got inside, Ember was already in her room, the door shut tight. I sighed. There would be no late-night debrief tonight, no jokes or venting over ice cream. Just silence, thick and unyielding.
---
The next morning, I was up before my alarm, nerves buzzing through me. Today's practice loomed like a shadow, but I couldn't stop thinking about last night. JT and Ember. Miles. The unresolved tension floating between all of us. I groaned into my pillow, wishing I could rewind to simpler days when my biggest concern was nailing a double axel.
With a sigh, I got dressed and headed to the rink. The moment my skates hit the ice, I tried to push everything else aside—Ember, JT, Miles, the tickets, the weird flutter in my chest when Miles said he'd send them. Focus, Nola. You can't afford distractions right now.
I threw myself into practice, forcing my body through every turn, jump, and sequence until the muscles in my legs burned and my lungs ached. For a while, it worked. The rhythm of skating was like a song my body knew by heart, and the ice beneath me was the only place where everything felt right. But even then, fragments of conversation floated back into my head, unbidden. JT's cracked voice. Ember's bitterness. Miles's calm, teasing grin.
By the time practice ended, I was exhausted physically and mentally. As I unlaced my skates, my phone buzzed on the bench next to me. I grabbed it and saw a message from Miles.
Miles: Got your tickets. Sending them over now. See you tonight?
A small smile tugged at my lips despite the whirlwind inside my head. There was something comforting about the idea of seeing him after all of this. I tapped out a quick reply.
Me: Thanks! I'll be there with my brothers.
It wasn't until I hit send that I realized how much I was looking forward to tonight. Not just the game, but seeing Miles again. Maybe this was dangerous territory, but somehow, I couldn't bring myself to care.
---
Later that evening, I found myself sitting in the stands with Brooks and Kayce on either side of me. The stadium buzzed with energy, fans cheering, the scent of popcorn and hotdogs lingering in the air. I glanced down at the ice, searching for Miles among the swarm of players warming up. When I spotted him, my heart gave a traitorous little flutter.
Kayce nudged me, smirking. "You've been staring at that guy like he's the second coming of Christ. What's the deal?"
I shot him a glare. "He's just a friend."
Brooks chuckled. "Sure. And I'm the queen of England."
I rolled my eyes but said nothing. There was no point in arguing with them when I knew they'd keep teasing me either way. Instead, I focused on the game, watching as Miles skated effortlessly across the ice, his every movement fluid and precise. He made it look easy, like he was born to do this.
---
After the game, I waited outside the locker rooms, nervously bouncing on the balls of my feet. My brothers had left to grab food, giving me some space. When the door finally swung open, players started streaming out, and it wasn't long before Miles appeared, his hair damp, his grin lazy and satisfied.
"Hey, you made it!" he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw me.
"Told you I would," I replied, smiling back.
For a moment, we just stood there, caught in that strange, unspoken tension that had been building between us. Then he cleared his throat and gestured toward the exit. "Want to grab a coffee or something? Just to wind down?"
I hesitated, thinking about the early practice I had tomorrow, but then I thought about the weight on my shoulders, the unresolved mess with Ember and JT. Maybe unwinding was exactly what I needed.
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "I'd like that."
---
As we walked out into the cool night, something inside me shifted, a small, tentative hope unfurling in the cracks of everything that had felt so overwhelming. Miles glanced over at me, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
"You know," he said, "I think you've been around hockey players too much. You're starting to act like one of us."
I laughed, the sound light and unexpected. "God help me."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, the ground beneath me felt steady again. Not perfect, not without fault lines but steady enough to keep moving forward.