Chapter Thirty-Five Irreplaceable
HADLEY
The Night Hawks arena is quiet when I arrive. The main lobby is dimly lit, the overhead fluorescent lights turned off, leaving only the safety lights casting long, blue-toned shadows across the polished concrete floors. Walking down the tunnel toward the rink, my breath hitches.
Julian is already here.
He’s out on the ice alone, finishing up some extra drills.
I stand behind the Plexiglas, entirely captivated.
He is a force of nature. He moves with a terrifying, beautiful combination of speed and brute power.
His large frame cuts through the ice, the sharp clack of his stick against a puck echoing like a gunshot in the empty arena.
His long, dark curly hair is damp with sweat, loose tendrils that have fallen from his bun clinging to the nape of his neck, and his thick beard is frosted with a light layer of condensation from his breath.
He scores with a precise wrist shot that rattles the water bottle off the top of the net, and as he turns around to skate back toward the blue line, his eyes find me.
He stops dead on his skates.
The moment our eyes meet, everything from Vegas comes rushing back without either of us saying a single word.
The memory of his heavy body pressed against mine, his rough, calloused hands gripping my hips, the low, gravelly sounds he made in my ear when he told me how beautiful I was… it all hits me like a physical wave.
I feel a hot, deep blush creep up my neck and flood my cheeks. I wrap my arms around my torso, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze. Julian doesn't move for a long second. Then a lazy, wicked smirk spreads across his face. His brown eyes darken in a way that makes my knees feel like water.
He skates over to the bench, unlatching the gate and stepping off the ice onto the rubber flooring.
I walk over to him, my heart hammering against my ribs, and sit down on the wooden bench next to where his gear is laid out. The air around him is warm, radiating the heat of his workout.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates straight to my core.
“Hey,” I whisper, looking up at him through my eyelashes.
He sits beside me, the bench creaking under his weight.
“I talked to Theo,” he tells me suddenly, his tone casual. His chest expands with a deep breath.
I blink, caught off guard. “Theo? When? What about?”
Julian looks at me and shrugs, his expression unreadable for a split second.
“Before Vegas. I’ll admit, I was jealous of him at first. Guy’s young, talented…
objectionably good-looking. When I saw you two together…
I dunno. I thought you would be better off with someone like him.
” He lets out a short, dry chuckle, shaking his head as he reaches for his other skate.
“Then I found out he’s the one who gave you my jersey…
and he kind of encouraged me to go for it with you. He’s not that bad of a guy, I guess.”
I watch him closely, reading between the lines. He’s playing it off as a joke, but I can see the tight set of his jaw and the slight tension in his broad shoulders.
Without caring about who might walk through the rink doors and see us, I reach out and wrap my hand around his. He freezes, his eyes snapping to our joined hands, then up to my face.
“Julian, you have to know that you are irreplaceable,” I tell him, squeezing his hand.
“To me, your friends, and to this team. Do you understand that?
Don't ever sell yourself short. You have fought for every single thing you have, and you did it on your own. That makes you incredible, Julian. You need to trust in the people who care about you as much as you should trust in yourself.”
Julian stares at me, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. The raw emotion in his eyes is staggering.
“When they brought Theo onto the roster…I convinced myself that was it,” he admits, his dark eyes fixed on our joined hands, his knuckles turning white.
“He’s younger. Faster. He’s got his whole career ahead of him.
I figured management was just setting up the transition, finding my replacement before they put me out to pasture.
” He lets out a ragged breath, his gaze lifting to meet mine, swimming with a raw, devastating vulnerability.
“And honestly, Hadley? I thought about him with you, too. He doesn’t have a history like mine. He would be perfect for you.”
How often has he felt like he wasn't enough? How many times has he looked in the mirror and only seen a liability to the people he loves?
I want to lean in and press my lips against his, but this is not the place. We could be caught by anyone, including Grandpa. The risk is too high.
Julian pulls his hand back, clearing his throat and nodding once. “You should get your skates on, sweetheart.”
“Right,” I nod, feeling a little breathless as I stand up and walk over to my own bag.
We split the rink in half like always. I take the far end, near the Zamboni entrance, and he stays near the benches.
Gliding across the ice, I let the movement calm my frantic mind. I practice my transitions, my spins, and the edge-work that has been second nature to me since I was a kid.
I try to focus on what I’m doing, but Julian being so close is distracting. We can't keep our eyes off each other.
Every time I turn or cross the blue line, I catch him watching me. Julian is supposed to be practicing his stick-handling, but he’s moving in slow motion. His eyes are trained on me as I glide through the center circle. All of a sudden, I’m not just practicing.
I'm skating for him.
I extend my lines, letting my movements become more fluid and expressive. I’m so aware of the heavy, burning gaze of the man on the other side of the red line as he watches me. Julian stops moving. He leans his forearms against the top of his stick and rests his chin on his gloved hands.
The air in the rink feels like it’s vibrating.
I finish a spin near the center line, panting. My chest rises and falls as I look at him. Julian lifts his head from his stick. There is something predatory in his posture now. A sudden, dark shift in his energy that makes my breath catch in my throat.
He drops his stick onto the ice, and it clatters against the surface. He takes a slow, deliberate stride toward the center line.
Before I even realize what I'm doing, a wild, electric spark of panic and thrill explodes in my chest. I don't wait for him to cross the red line. I dig the toe pick of my skate into the ice and take off in the opposite direction.
The adrenaline of a chase has my heart pounding against my ribs. The sheer exhilaration of wanting him to catch me turns my blood to fire.
“Sweetheart,” Julian’s voice echoes behind me and is laced with hunger. “You think you can run from me?”
I sprint, cutting hard around the net. My figure skates allow me to make tighter, sharper turns than him. But his sheer stride length closes the distance between us. We skate in circles around the rink. The sound of our breathing and the slicing of blades fills the air.
“Come here, Hadley,” he commands. His voice is closer now. He’s catching up, which makes my stomach flutter with excitement.
I let out a breathless laugh. My eyes land on the open gate near the benches, and I throw myself toward it, stepping off the ice onto the rubber mats.
I try to run in my skates. My ankles wobble on the thick rubber floor.
I race down the dimly lit hallway toward the locker rooms. The heavy clack-clack-clack of his skates is right behind me.
I burst through the door of the ladies' locker room, thinking I can hide.
I don't even make it past the entryway. A huge, heavy hand grips my waist from behind, making me squeal.
“Gotcha,” Julian growls against the shell of my ear.
I gasp, my back hitting his massive chest as his arms wrap around me like iron bands. He steers me out of the locker room and into the empty Physical Therapy office next door. He shoves the door shut behind us. The lock clicks into place with a sharp, definitive sound that seals us in the dark.
Julian doesn't say a word. The primal, intense need radiating off him is suffocating in the best way possible. He spins me around, pinning my back against the edge of the heavy wooden treatment table. He strips me fast, dragging my sweatshirt over my head and tugging my leggings and panties off in one swift tug. Then, he reaches between my thighs, his rough fingers finding my hot folds. I let out a sharp cry, arching my back against the table. I’m soaked.
Completely ready for him. My body reacting to the thrill of the chase and the sheer, overwhelming presence of him.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. His voice is raw. His thumb sweeps over my clit. “Fucking perfect.”
With his other hand, he unbuttons his hockey pants, freeing his hard cock. He’s already leaking precum.
He pauses, his teeth clenching as he grits out, “No condom.”
I swallow. “I’m on the pill… it helps regulate my periods.”
His eyes flash with a wild, almost feral hunger. With one heavy, possessive surge of his hips, he slams into me.
“Julian!” I gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders.
He’s so long and thick. There’s a sharp ache at his invasion, but it’s quickly taken over by pleasure.
He grips my thighs, lifting my legs to wrap around his waist, using his incredible strength to hold me balanced on the table as he begins to move.
He is relentless. Every drive of his hips makes me fall deeper and deeper into the sensations radiating from my pussy.
It’s so all-consuming; for a moment, I forget where we are.
We are lost in the rhythm. The wet, slapping sound of our bodies and our ragged breathing fills the small office. Pushing us closer and closer to the edge.
Then, a sound cuts through the dark.
Thud.
It’s the heavy, distinct sound of the facility’s outer glass doors opening down the hall. Then, the rhythmic, heavy echo of footsteps walking on the concrete corridor.
We both freeze. My heart jumps straight into my throat, a violent spike of ice-cold dread crashing straight through the heat of the moment. Reality hits me with the force of a freight train.
Holy fuck…what are we doing? Anyone could walk in on us. What if the person coming down the hall opens the door to this room?
What if it’s my grandpa?
“Julian,” I choke out, my voice barely a whisper, my entire body locking up in sheer terror.
Julian’s muscles strain as he holds himself still inside me and carefully places his hand over my mouth.
If whoever is out there walks into this hallway…if they decide to check the PT office…what will happen to us? To Julian? Could this affect his career? If my father finds out, will he drag me to Colorado Springs to live with him, taking away what little independence I have?
For a seemingly endless moment, neither of us moves. We don't even breathe. Both of us are listening, eyes strained in the dark, waiting to see if the sound gets closer.
The footsteps approach the end of the hallway.
I can feel the frantic, heavy thudding of Julian’s heart against my chest. His breath is hot and shallow against my neck.
It takes me a moment to realize he’s protecting me.
Shielding my body with his own large frame.
His eyes are locked on the frosted glass of the door.
The footsteps pause right outside the ladies' locker room.
I squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering against Julian’s palm. Oh, God, oh, God! We’re so fucked!
Then, after a lifetime of agonizing silence, the footsteps turn. They don't get closer. They move toward the main offices at the front of the building. The sound fades away, growing fainter and fainter until the heavy, industrial click of a distant door signals that he’s left the immediate area.
My entire body goes limp against the treatment table. The fear drains out of me, leaving me shivering.
Julian pulls his hand away from my mouth and leans back just enough to look down at me in the dim light, his dark eyes searching my face. I expect to see regret. I expect him to pull away, fix his clothes, and tell me this was a mistake.
He doesn’t do any of that. Instead, his gaze drops to my lips, jaw clenching.
His hands, still gripping my thighs, tighten.
Letting out a low, rough growl, eyes flashing in the dark, he leans down and buries his face in the crook of my neck.
He shifts his hips, driving back into me with a sudden intensity that makes me cry out.
I wrap my hands around his neck to pull him closer.
We are playing with fire, and we both know it. But as Julian holds me tight against him, I realize I’ve never wanted to burn more in my life.