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I wondered if anyone else felt the tension crackling in the air like static electricity.

A knot twisted tighter in my stomach as I fought to maintain my focus while battling against feelings I didn't want to acknowledge. My teammates murmured amongst themselves, exchanging wary glances; even they couldn’t deny what we all knew—this guy had been exceptional before everything fell apart.

Knox leaned against the boards, legs spread wide, stick resting across his thighs like a weapon he wasn’t sure if he felt like using today.

He looked like he owned the place.

Like nothing here could touch him.

The other girls were stealing glances, whispering, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care.

He had that look guys like him always had—the kind that said he’d been the best in every room he’d ever walked into until he wasn’t.

But then, his eyes found mine—sharp, blue, cutting straight through me.

I felt it like a hit to the chest.

Heat surged into my cheeks—anger first, but something else, too.

Something worse.

Did he know who I was?

Or was he just looking for the easiest one to break?

Coach clapped his hands, dragging me back into the present.

“All right, everyone! Pairs for contact drills. Puck battles along the boards!”

The tension in the rink shifted—everybody knew these were the drills that left bruises.

The kind Knox Callahan had built his career on.

I scanned the ice, looking for someone—anyone—who wouldn’t make me regret today.

Then his voice cut through everything.

Low. Rough.

Like he already knew I’d do what he said.

“You.”

Every head turned.

I froze for a second—just a beat too long—before I forced my skates forward.

Every step felt like walking into a trap.

He was still leaning against the boards, but there was nothing casual about it now.

He was waiting.

For me.

And everyone was watching—like they knew this was going to end badly for someone.

Maybe for both of us.