Page 13

The rink smells like sweat and cold steel as Coach’s voice cuts through the noise.

“Alright, listen up!” he shouts, waving a clipboard like a weapon. “We’ve got a game against South Ridge this Friday. They’re fast, they’re mean, and they’re gonna come at you hard. I need every single one of you focused and ready to play like your damn lives depend on it.”

There’s a murmur of agreement from the team, sticks tapping on the ice like a collective heartbeat.

Coach’s eyes land on me. “And Grayson, congrats, you’re officially in the lineup.”

I blink. “Thank you, Coach.”

The team shifts around me, and I feel the weight of their stares. Caleb’s glare hits the hardest. He’s standing off to the side, his arms crossed, jaw clenched like he’s biting back a string of insults.

“Caleb,” Coach continues, “you’re sitting this one out.”

“What?” Caleb snaps, stepping forward. “You’re benching me?”

Coach doesn’t flinch. “You’re not at a hundred percent, and I’m not rewarding it. That’s final.”

“Coach—”

“Final, Caleb,” Coach says, his voice like ice.

The team mutters under their breath, a few guys throwing me quick glances. Yeah, it’s pretty clear who they’re blaming for this.

Caleb doesn’t say anything else, but the look he gives me could melt the fucking ice under our skates.

In the locker room, the tension is thick enough to cut with a skate blade. I sit on the bench, pulling off my pads and trying to act like I’m not fully aware of Caleb sitting a few feet away, his anger radiating like a goddamn furnace.

I clear my throat. “Hey, look–”

Caleb doesn’t even glance at me. “Mind your business.”

“Cool talk.”

He turns his head, his eyes dark. “You done?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

I clench my jaw and go back to unlacing my skates. The guy’s an asshole, but I get it. Losing your spot to someone new? It’s gotta suck. Still, he doesn’t have to make it so fucking personal.

When I finish showering, the locker room is quieter, most of the guys already gone. Caleb’s still there, though, packing up his stuff like he’s got somewhere better to be.

I shrug on my jacket and head out, my thoughts drifting. Not to the game, not to Caleb, but to Sienna.

The library is quiet when I get there, the kind of quiet that almost feels sacred. Bookshelves stretch out like a maze, and the faint smell of paper and coffee fills the air.

I glance around, hoping to spot her. She’s been on my mind way too much lately, and I haven’t seen her since I kissed her.

And yeah, I know it’s stupid. She’s probably not even thinking about me. But she’s a distraction I’m not ready to let go of.

I wander through the aisles, pretending to look at books but really scanning for her. Nothing. My chest tightens with frustration, and I rub the back of my neck, trying to shake it off.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see her. She’s at a table near the window, her head bent over a book, a pen tapping rhythmically against the page.

I stop in my tracks, suddenly unsure what the hell I’m doing.

Go to her, dumbass.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I make my way over, my heart doing some kind of weird, erratic dance in my chest.

“Hey,” I say, leaning against the edge of the table.

She looks up, her eyes narrowing when she sees me. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Studying,” I lie, holding up a random book I grabbed from the shelf.

She snorts. “Right. Studying. You don’t strike me as the library type.”

“Maybe I’m full of surprises.”

“Or full of shit.”

I grin. “That too.”

Her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile, and it feels like a small victory.

“You avoiding me?” I ask, keeping my tone light.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Eli.”

“Too late.”

She shakes her head, but I catch the faintest hint of a smile before she looks back down at her book.

“You’re distracting me,” she says, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Good. Means I have an effect on you.”

She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t tell me to leave either. I take that as a win and sit across from her, pretending to read the random book in my hands.

Yeah, she’s a distraction. But right now? She’s the only thing keeping my head above water.

A few minutes pass before Sienna pops open a Diet Coke, the hiss loud in the quiet library. She takes a slow sip, her lips wrapped around the straw like she’s doing it just to mess with me.

I groan, leaning on the table. “You’re so fucking hot. It’s distracting.”

She doesn’t even flinch, just sets the can down and looks at me like I’m dirt under her shoe. “Go away, Eli.”

“Nope.” I lean closer, resting my chin on my hand. “Are we seriously not gonna talk about the other day?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She says it so fast, so sharp, it’s like a slap.

“Bullshit.” I sit up, crossing my arms. “Talk to me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” she snaps, flipping her notebook closed like that’s supposed to end the conversation.

I grab it before she can stop me, holding it out of reach.

“Eli, what the hell?” she hisses, her eyes darting around.

I grin, flipping through it. “Let’s see what’s got you so busy.”

“Give it back!” She reaches for it, but I hold it higher, standing now.

Clearing my throat dramatically, I start reading. “ Why is he so infuriating, and why do I— ”

Her hand clamps over my mouth. “Shut up! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I lower the notebook just enough to meet her glare. “Then talk to me.”

“Fine,” she mutters through gritted teeth.

I stand, pulling her up with me.

“In private.”

She looks like she’s about to argue, but I’m already moving, dragging her toward the shelves.

“Eli, this is ridiculous,” she says, her voice sharp but quiet. “I don’t have time for this.”

I stop between two rows, the space tight, the scent of old books heavy in the air. I turn to her, crowding her back against the shelf.

“Make time,” I say, my voice low.

Her arms cross over her chest like she’s building a wall. “I already told you. You’re not my type.”

“Liar,” I murmur, stepping closer.

Her eyes widen slightly. “What?”

“Pretty little liar.” My hand slides up to her hair, threading through the strands before I tug gently, tilting her face up to mine.

She sucks in a sharp breath, and I kiss her, hard and deep. Her lips are soft, warm, and for a second, she doesn’t move. Then she melts into me, her body leaning into mine like she’s been waiting for this.

She whimpers, the sound going straight to my head. My hands move, one wrapping around her waist, the other sliding to cup her breast. She arches into my touch, her breath hitching.

“Eli,” she whispers, her tone a mix of warning and something else.

I move my hand lower, finding the zipper on her shorts. Slowly, I tug it down, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet space.

Her eyes lock on mine, wide and hazy. “Stop,” she says, but there’s no conviction in her voice.

I pause, my fingers resting on the waistband of her shorts. “I will if you admit you’re interested in me.”

Her jaw tightens. “I’m not interested.”

“Liar,” I say again, dragging the zipper lower.

Her pink lace panties peek out, and I let out a low growl. “Princess in pink,” I murmur, my voice rough.

She looks up at me, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed. I dip my hand into her panties, finding her slick and warm. I knew I would find her wet.

She moans softly, her head falling back against the shelf.

Then, a loud throat clears behind us.

We both freeze.

Turning, I see none other than Caleb, standing at the end of the aisle with a look that could kill.

Sienna yanks away from me, her face a deep shade of red as she fumbles to fix her shorts.

I smirk, not even trying to hide my amusement.

“Grayson,” Caleb barks, his tone sharp. “Follow me. Now.”

I glance at Sienna, who’s still avoiding my gaze, her hands trembling as she smooths her shirt.

I wink at her, enjoying the way her blush deepens, then turn to follow Caleb.

This ought to be good.

Caleb doesn’t say a word as I follow him down the hallway and out the back door of the library.

His shoulders are stiff, his jaw tight. I’m not exactly scared.

Caleb’s an asshole, but he’s not going to throw punches in public.

Still, the guy’s got that way of making you feel like you’re about to get benched for breathing wrong.

We stop near the dumpsters, where it smells like old sandwiches and regret. He spins on me, crossing his arms.

“What the fuck are you thinking?”

I raise a brow, leaning against the brick wall. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Coach’s daughter, you idiot. Sienna.”

“We were just talking.”

He snorts. “Talking, huh? That why your hand smells like pussy right now?”

My tongue rubs my bottom lip as I let out a chuckle. I bring my fingers up and sniff. “Smells like a perfect little puck bunny if you ask me.”

His gaze bores into mine.

I grin because pissing him off is kind of fun. “Relax. She’s a big girl. She can make her own decisions.”

“This isn’t about her. It’s about the team, the dynamic. Coach. You fuck this up, and you’re gonna regret it, newbie. It doesn’t matter how good of a player you are.”

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Noted.”

“Good,” he says, but then his expression shifts, like he’s about to drop something heavier. “Now, about tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He steps closer, lowering his voice like someone can hear us. “The Reapers–”

I blink. “The what now?”

“The Brotherhood,” he repeats, like that explains anything.

“What about it?”

“You’re invited,” he says. “Square at midnight. Don’t be late.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah. Alone.”

I stare at him, waiting for the punchline, but he just nods like this is normal.

“Right,” I say slowly. “Anything else I should know?”

“Just show up,” he says, already walking away. Then he turns, smirking over his shoulder. “Don’t be late, newbie.”

I watch him go, shaking my head. Reaper shit? Just what I need.