Ice & Prejudice

Chapter 104

Nik's POV:

When we pulled up to my parents' house, the place was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. As we walked inside, I immediately noticed a note on the kitchen table in Amara's neat, looping handwriting. I picked it up and read it aloud, grinning.

"'We've all gone out for dinner. You two behave and order something if you're hungry. I've left you some money on the table. Be back around 9, probably. Love, Mom.'"

Victoria chuckled beside me, leaning against the table with that casual grace she always had. "Behave, huh? Someone clearly doesn't trust you," she teased, her eyes sparkling.

I grimaced, tossing the note aside. "She knows me well."

We weren't particularly hungry after grabbing something quick from the drive-through post-prison showdown, so I looked at Vic, and without a word exchanged, we both headed upstairs to my room. I hadn't really thought much about it last night—it was late, and we'd both just crashed after a long day—but now, seeing her actually take in the space, I wondered what she thought of it.

She stepped inside, looking around, her eyes scanning every corner of my room. I could tell she was taking it all in, and for some reason, that made me nervous. Not that there was anything strange about it—just a regular guy's room, right? A bed, a desk cluttered with random papers and books, a few shelves with hockey memorabilia, and—oh. She'd spotted it.

Her eyes landed on the record player, then drifted over to the stack of vinyls leaning against the shelf next to it. She raised an eyebrow, turning to me with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"You?" she asked, gesturing toward the vinyls. "You listen to vinyl?"

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "What? You don't think I have good taste in music?"

She walked over to the collection, her fingers grazing the edges of the records as she flipped through them. "No, I just didn't expect this from you." She picked up a vinyl, reading the label. "This is impressive, actually."

I smiled, walking up behind her. "It's your fault, you know," I said casually.

She turned to look at me, surprised and confused. "My fault?"

I nodded. "Yeah. You had that old record player in your room at Ivy, you know? You'd be up late, playing all kinds of music on those things. It was the first time I'd seen someone so obsessed with vinyls. It got me hooked. After that, I started collecting them, picking up albums from everywhere—hockey trips, business trips. I'd always think, 'One day, she'll see this collection, and it'll make her smile.'"

Her expression softened, her eyes wide as she absorbed my words. And then, just like I'd always imagined, she smiled. A real, genuine smile. One that warmed me from the inside out.

"Wow," she murmured, looking down at the vinyls again. "You actually did this... for me?"

I shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. "I mean, maybe a little bit for me, too. But yeah. Mostly for you."

She kept flipping through the collection, and I watched as her eyes lit up when she found a Lana Del Rey album. She pulled out the Lana Del Rey vinyl and raised it with a triumphant smirk. "This I did not expect from you."

"What?" I smirked. "I have range."

She pulled it out carefully, glancing at me for permission.

"Go ahead," I said, and she immediately placed the record on the player. As the needle dropped, the soft, haunting melody of "Love" filled the room.