##Chapter 61: CassidyBook Two: Don't LeaveI gulp down a fresh burst of nerves. "Is it too late to cancel?"Cole squeezes my hand as his gaze darts to mine in the close confines of his Mustang.His eyes fill with humor. "You don't have anything to worry about. They're going to love you." He gives me another squeeze as if that alone is enough to reassure me.It's not."I promise," he adds.I nibble my lower lip before blurting, "And what if they don't?"At the moment, all I can imagine is his mom and stepdad hating me. Jackie's admittance about having lunch with Cole's mother snakes its way through my head before nesting in a place that makes it is impossible to evict it from. She's probably hoping her son will get back together with his high school girlfriend.Are Jackie and his mother still close?The question gnaws away at me.Unaware of the dark thoughts swirling through my head, Cole says, "Then I'll probably end up dumping you."My wide gaze swings to his. A smile simmers

##Chapter 63: CassidyBook Two: Don't LeaveUnable to sit still for another second, I shoot out of my seat. The conversation screeches to an abrupt halt as three startled gazes settle on me.It takes effort to pull my lips into an anemic-looking smile. "I, ah, need to use the bathroom.""It's through the kitchen and to the right," Thomas directs.I force myself to take deep, calming breaths before releasing them back into the atmosphere.A mirthless laugh gurgles up inside, because here I am, using Dr. Thompson's breathing techniques in her own house.It's just too much.Finding the bathroom, I lock the door and rush to the sink before running the tap and splashing a handful of cold water onto my face. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, all the while continuing to inhale and exhale.This is crazy.And when I say crazy what I really mean is totally fucked up.How can I possibly continue seeing Cole when his mother knows every ugly detail about my life? She knows how I fell apart under

##Chapter 65: CassidyBook Two: Don't LeaveHis guarded expression crumbles as he sucks in a quick breath before saying in a rush, "I know you are. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for how I handled the situation." With a shrug, he glances away. "Maybe I pushed you too hard. Or pushed you into playing a sport you didn't want to. I just don't know anymore..." A hint of a smile lifts his lips. "I used to think I had all the answers, now I realize that I don't have any of them. Raising children is a humbling experience."A thick sheen of tears fills my eyes as I shake my head. "No, Dad. I wanted to play hockey. I loved playing." I loved being out on the ice. I felt at home in a freezing cold rink. I still do. So many of my childhood memories are centered around the ice. Hard-fought wins. Crushing defeats. Time spent with my dad. I wouldn't trade any of those memories. They mean too much to me.My experience growing up wasn't a perfect one, but it's mine. And it's wh

##Chapter 67: CassidyBook Two: Don't LeaveNinety minutes.That's how much time I have to hit the books before I'm supposed to meet Cole for a quick dinner. He has a hockey scrimmage tonight, and Brooklyn and I are planning on being there to support the team.I still haven't worked up the courage to tell him that his mother is my psychologist. I keep putting it off. How familiar does that sound?Unfortunately, all too familiar.And here I thought telling him about all the meaningless hookups and failing out of school would be the hard part. I'd really thought we were past all the secrets, lies, and omissions.Turns out, we're not.With one last glance at my phone, I turn off the ringer before shoving it back into my messenger bag. Then I head up to the second floor. There's a quiet area buried behind the stacks. I always gravitate there because no one else ever uses the space.Imagine my surprise when I find someone camped out at the table I usually park myself at. Annoyance f

##Chapter 69: CassidyBook Two: Don't Leave"Are you going to tell me what's wrong? You've been all mopey since you came back from the library," Brooklyn asks as we sit in the bleachers, waiting for the game to get under way.Unable to stand the way she continues to eyeball me, I mutter, "No." I keep my gaze trained on the Zamboni as it slowly sweeps water over the ice to smooth out all the rough patches while my mind tumbles back to the ride home with Cole.None of this would be happening if I'd found my own table to work at. I wouldn't be sitting here in the stands with a pit the size of Texas at the bottom of my belly, feeling as if Cole and I are on the precipice of something terrible.Brooklyn refuses to take the hint. "No, there's nothing wrong? Or no, you're going to keep it all to yourself and not tell me what's going on?""I'll go with what's behind door number two, please."Before she can respond, the Zamboni disappears into a garage-type door at the far end of the rink,