Chapter Seventeen
LEXI
Friday morning, I was excited, and a little too eager to get up. I’d gone to the party like Hazel had asked, and Kayden ordered, which meant it was time for me to get down to business.
I was up at four this morning, enough time to get dressed and get to the rink before the hockey team showed up for practice. Hazel gave me a ride in, since she had to be there to help her dad, anyway.
The rink this early in the morning was an entirely different beast. It smelled like steel sweat and damp rubber. It’s perfect.
I stepped onto the fresh sheet, instantly feeling at home.
At peace. My thoughts ventured back to Kayden’s speech on the ice a week ago.
How he thought he owned the rink because a few NHL scouts were sniffing around his stats.
He thought my anxiety and my past injury meant I was fragile enough to break under a little intimidation. Under pressure.
He’s obviously forgotten who I am.
I glided towards the center of the ice, right over the painted Timberwolves logo where he usually took his face-offs. The ice doesn’t belong to him. It belonged to whoever was willing to bleed for it. I threw my arms out, locked my core, and launched into a routine.
The freezing air bit at the bare skin of my neck, but I didn't care. It feels so good. I let my blades glide over the blue line, tracing the exact path where the team had run drills.
I looked down at the freshly flooded surface, smooth as glass. His ice.
"Fuck you Kayden," I whispered to the empty bleachers.
I started with simple crossovers, building up momentum, letting the familiar rhythm wash away the months of doubt.
My ankles throbbed slightly, protesting the leather of my skates, but the ache felt good.
It’s like I’m living again. Not a broken shell of a girl.
I pushed harder, accelerating into the neutral zone, my heart hammering fiercely against my ribs.
I threw myself into a three-turn, transitioning effortlessly to backward skating, my eyes locking onto the logo.
His territory.
This was where he took his draws, where he commanded his team, where he thought he was untouchable. I dropped my hips, deepened my edge, and prepared for the entrance to a double salchow.
One, two, spring...
I launched into the air, drawing my arms tight to my chest. For a split second, the gravity of my past failures vanished. I spun, the rafters blurring above me, before landing clean on my right edge, my left leg extending beautifully behind me.
A loud, slow clap echoed through the empty arena.
I slammed my left foot down to brake, spraying a wave of fine ice crystals into the air. My head snapped toward the player’s bench.
Sitting on the boards, wearing hockey track pants and a gray hoodie with the sleeves pushed up, was none other than the world’s biggest jerk.
He had a roll of black stick tape in one hand and a bottle of Gatorade in the other.
He wasn't smiling. His dark eyes locked onto mine, tracking the heavy rise and fall of my chest.
Go away, Kayden. I can’t fucking think around you.
"Nice jump," his voice carried across the quiet rink. He put the Gatorade and tape down and hopped off the bench. The plastic of his skate guards crunching loudly against the rubber flooring as he walked toward the open gate. "Too bad I told you to stay off my ice."
I placed my hands on my hips, resisting the urge to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.
I prayed he would go away and leave me alone. Things between us were weird. One minute we were pretending to be the happy couple we wanted everyone to think we were, and the next we were at each other’s throats.
It was whiplash at its finest.
The back and forth battle between us was completely exhausting. I wanted to prove him wrong, that I could do what I’d always wanted to. Yet, I was scared. Scared to live, scared to fail.“You think you’re intimidating me, but you’re not. You don’t own me, Kayden. You never will.”
I turned away from him, eager to get back into my routine and forget he existed. I went out to the middle of the ice, and as the music started to play, I lost myself in the song once again.
Who cares if he watches me? I certainly don’t.
The severe ankle fracture on my right foot from my fall had fully healed, but that didn’t mean that the fear wasn’t still there, lingering.
What if I fell again? What if I was doomed to be a complete failure?
So focused on my routine and my thoughts, I didn’t realize that he had stepped foot on the ice right along with me.
I stopped in the middle, trying to figure out what he was going to do. He didn't say a word, but he circled me, like a cat watching a mouse. His predatory gaze was severe, watching every move I made.
His blue eyes never left my face as he skated backward in a flawless perimeter around my spot on the logo. The wind from his momentum brushed against my face, smelling faintly of cold air. He was close, so close that if I stretched out my arm, my fingertips would brush his chest.
Why did he do this to me?
"You're tracking dirt on my ice," I said, my voice steady despite the rapid pounding of my heart.
"I don't see your name on it," he replied, his voice low. He kept skating, his long, powerful legs crossing over each other with terrifying ease. "You're a distraction. I have a draft to secure, and I can't have you tripping over your own feet while I'm trying to work."
"I wasn't tripping. It was a double salchow, and I landed it perfectly," I retorted, turning my head to keep eye contact with him as he circled behind me.
"And if we're talking about distractions, I'm pretty sure you're the one who crashed into the boards at practice last week because you were too busy looking at the bleachers. "
He stopped dead in his tracks.
The abrupt scrape of his blades was deafening. He was directly in front of me now, his chest heaving slightly, the smug indifference vanishing from his face. He leaned down slightly, bringing his face level with mine, close enough that I could see the faint gold flecks in his blue eyes.
"Who told you about that?" he growled.
"Nobody had to," I whispered, stepping a single inch closer, refusing to let him win the space. "But if you think you can bully me off the ice, you've got another thing coming. Get used to sharing, Center Boy. Because I'm not going anywhere."
With that, I skated off the ice, my workout done for the day.
I stopped when he called after me, and turned around, wishing I hadn’t.
“Tomorrow night at seven, you have plans.”
I frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He skated to the barrier where I was, his skates hitting the wall. “Game tomorrow night. You need to be here.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, “My world doesn’t revolve around you. I have plans.”
He raised an eyebrow, “What plans?”
I had plans to study with Josh in a study group, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I have a date.”
The look on his face was priceless.
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. I stood there for a minute watching, waiting to see what he would do next.
Then, as if a switch was flipped, his jaw clenched, gaze hardened. “Dating other guys isn’t in our agreement, Alexis.”
He’s pissed. He never used my full name unless he was pissed at me. It’s almost as if he were jealous.
I shrugged and grinned, “I know, but you should’ve seen the look on your face!” He moved around the wall, closing in on my space. His arm went around my waist, my breath caught in my throat. His head dipped into my shoulder, as he pressed a kiss there, his tongue delicately licking my skin.
My belly dipped, a reaction that sent shockwaves down my spine. When he pulled back, a giant smirk was on his lips. His fingers touched his lips as if he were remembering what I tasted like.
“You’re mine. Don’t forget that.” Why did it feel like he wasn’t talking about our deal?
I shook my head to clear wandering thoughts and walked away from him, knowing I was digging myself into a bigger hole.
If I weren’t careful, I’d end up getting my heart broken...
again. I had to keep myself closed off so I wouldn’t fall into his trap.
He was pulling me in, just so he could discard me when he was ready.
It didn’t matter if I’d always had a crush on him or not, Kayden was bad news, and I needed to remind myself of that before things turned sour.