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And then—

I see it.

Her name tag.

Katarina Novak.

Novak.

My stomach drops. My jaw clenches.

No. Fucking. Way.

I say the name aloud, low and slow. “Novak.”

She stiffens.

I lean in, watching her like she’s a puzzle piece that finally slid into place. I keep my face blank, but inside, I’m grinding my teeth.

Griffin fuckin’ Novak.Dude has fists for hands and a mouth that never shuts. No matter how many penalties he racked up—he was golden. Protected. Untouchable.

Me? One too many brawls, and I get slapped with a trade like I was the goddamn problem. I’m not going toe-to-toe with him again. I like my career right where it is—not in the shredder.

“Huh,” I murmur. “I used to play with a Novak. Total fuckin’ headcase. Rage problem. Got me traded, actually.”

Nothing. Not even a blink.

“Any relation?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Her eyes stay locked on mine. She doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t have to.

Novak.

The same cocky bastard who made my life hell for the last two years. Who called me out, called me poison, made damn sure everyone else believed it too.

And now I’m standing three feet from everything he holds precious.His little sister.

The same little sister with that hot, smartass mouth I’d kill to feel wrecked and messy around my cock—

but she’s that fucker’s little sister

And that makes it a goddamn war zone I’m not willing to fuck with.

I’m sure she feels this too, because I can tell she’s trying to hold her shit together.

The cracks are showing— I just can’t prove why.

I grin. Slow. Dangerous.

“Well. Fuck. Griffin fuckin’ Novak.”

Her whole body goes still.

Like she just realized how deep this hole really is.

This changes everything...a walking complication.

But I can’t stop myself.