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I dragged my teeth over my bottom lip, forcing myself to straighten up. “Go on,” I said, waving her off with a casualness I didn’t feel. “You’ve got more work to do.”

She hesitated for the briefest moment, just enough for the heat between us to coil even tighter.

Then she turned and skated away, her strides purposeful, her presence still clinging to me long after she disappeared down the tunnel.

I exhaled sharply, taking off my helmet and running a hand through my damp hair, my fingers twitching with frustration.

She might’ve left—but she took something of me with her.

And I was ready for whatever came next.

I skated off the ice, my pulse still hammering, my body vibrating with the raw energy of practice. The drills, the contact, the tension between me and Iris—it all clung to my skin like sweat. But none of it compared to the way my gut twisted when I saw him.

Chris fucking Langley.

He stood near the boards, his easygoing grin firmly in place as he waited for her. His presence alone was enough to set my teeth on edge, but the way she leaned in slightly, the way she smiled back—that was the match to the gasoline.

I moved before I could think. My strides were slow, deliberate, but the heat curling in my chest made each step feel heavier, like I was stalking something. Someone.

I cut between them, planting myself in the space that should have never been his.

Iris’s eyes flicked up, a mixture of confusion and challenge sparking there, but I didn’t give her time to react. My focus was locked, my voice steady.

“Evans. Locker room. Now.”

Not a request. A command.

She froze for a second, her body tensing like she was deciding whether or not to fight me on it. My blood roared at the thought of her pushing back, but the need to get her the hell away from him burned hotter.

Chris shifted, already stepping into my space like some goddamn knight in shining armor. His arms crossed, his posturetightening, but I didn’t acknowledge him. He wasn’t my priority. She was.

Iris hesitated a second too long, and I narrowed my gaze. “Go,” I murmured, voice low, steady.

Her jaw set, but she nodded, brushing past me, our shoulders grazing for just a second. It sent a charge through my veins—a spark of heat that nearly made me reach out, grab her, keep her.

Instead, I clenched my fists and exhaled as she disappeared toward the locker room.

Only then did I turn to Chris.

He stood firm, eyes narrowed, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was debating whether or not to say whatever stupid thing was on his mind.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, voice laced with that cocky undertone that made me want to knock it right out of him.

I stepped in closer, dropping my tone into something cold and dangerous. “Stay out of it.”

Chris scoffed, shaking his head like I was some kind of joke. But I saw it—the flicker of doubt in his expression, the way he shifted his weight like part of him knew I wasn’t bluffing.

He didn’t push back.

Good.

Because this wasn’t a game he wanted to play with me.

I followed Iris into the locker room; the door swinging shut behind me with a quiet thud. The space felt cavernous and empty, echoes of laughter and chatter still lingering in the air from practice. But now? Now it was just us.The tension wrapped around us like a thick fog, heavy and electric. My heart raced as I stood across from her, maintaining distance but letting my presence fill every inch of the room. I wanted to move closer, wanted to close that gap, but something held me back.

Iris crossed her arms, defiantly meeting my gaze. Her expression was fierce—unyielding. She wasn’t about to back down. Not here. Not now.

I let a smirk slip through—just a flicker of it, but enough to show her I wasn’t intimidated. “You know why I’m here.”