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But even as I spoke those words, doubt gnawed at me. The truth was different; Damien mattered more than I wanted to admit. He had carved his name into my memories like ice skates slicing through frozen ground—deep and unyielding.

Judging by the way Everly looked at me, it was clear she saw right through the façade. Her silence felt heavy with understanding and concern, yet she didn’t push. For that small mercy, I felt grateful.

We both sipped our drinks, letting the moment stretch into comfortable silence until she finally broke it.

“You know Cooper would never let anything happen to you,” she said softly.

I nodded, trying to convince myself of that very thing. “I know… he seems nice.”

“But?” Everly prompted gently.

“But he’s also Damien’s brother.” The connection twisted something inside me—a knot of anxiety and resentment tightening in my gut. “It just feels awkward.”

Everly leaned forward slightly, concern etched on her face. “You’re allowed to have friends even if they’re connected to your past.”

My heart raced at her words; she had no idea how tangled those connections were for me. Nothing about Damien ever stayed in the past.

“Let’s change the subject,” I said quickly, unwilling to explore this territory any further.

Everly gave me another long look. It annoyed me how she was so adept at seeing through me, even after a sheltered upbringing. College had done her good.

Or maybe it was Cooper Sinclaire.

"Who do you think is going to make the Team USA roster?" I asked. "I hear Iris Evans is practically a prodigy."

After lunch,I trudged back to campus, my mind still tangled in thoughts of Damien and Logan. The weight of the afternoon’s conversation hung over me like a thick fog. I had to pick up the vendor's list for the charity game, but all I wanted was to escape the suffocating memories that followed me around.

As I neared the rink, I heard laughter and the unmistakable thud of skates cutting into ice. It was a sound that stirred something inside me. I pushed through the double doors and stepped into the cold air of the rink area, hoping to get in and out without incident.

But then, there he was.

Damien stood by the entrance, leaning casually against the wall like he owned the place. He looked strikingly like a predator, with silver-blond hair tousled just right and stormy blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. An easy smile played on his lips, yet it felt dangerous—like a wolf pretending to be a house pet.

I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to walk past him or confront whatever he had in mind. But before I could decide, he intercepted me effortlessly.

“Avoiding me already?” His voice rolled over me like silk laced with steel.

I forced a smile, trying to keep my composure. “I’m busy.”

He took a step closer, invading my personal space in that infuriating way he always did. “Too busy for me?”

My heart raced at his proximity; his presence was electric yet suffocating. Every muscle in my body screamed for me to back away, but there was something magnetic about him—something that drew me in against my will.

“I really need to grab this list,” I said, attempting to sidestep him as if that would somehow break whatever spell he cast over our shared history.

He chuckled softly, a sound filled with confidence and amusement. “Come on, little lamb. It’s just a list.” His eyes narrowed slightly as if he were assessing my every move—my body language, my heartbeat—as if he could sense my uncertainty.

I clenched my jaw, determined not to let him see how much his presence affected me. But standing so close made it hard to remember why I wanted him out of my life in the first place.

The air between us crackled with tension, and I fought to suppress the shivers that crept up my spine. It was suffocating, the way he stood there—calm, collected—like a storm that hadn’t yet broken. I could almost feel the heat radiating off him, the violence simmering just beneath his surface.

And the worst part? My body remembered it. Every glance he threw my way, every brush of his shoulder against mine, sent waves of heat through me that I couldn't ignore. I took a step back, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control.

“I’m not doing this with you,” I declared, my voice steadier than I felt.

His smirk widened, eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, you’re already doing it, little lamb. We never stopped.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, resisting the urge to reach out and push him away as if I could physically expel the memories of what we once had—and what he still stirred within me. My heart raced in response to his words, a mix of anger and confusion twisting in my gut.