Page 7

Chapter Seven

Blake

S now flies in every direction. Laughter, shouts, and the thump of snowballs colliding with puffy jackets fill the crisp air as chaos unfolds around me.

Then, the first snowball hits me right in the back of the fucking head.

Not a soft, lazy lob. Oh no. This one’s a sniper shot, perfectly aimed, packing just enough force to send a spray of ice down the back of my collar.

I whip around, ready to raise hell.

A group of grinning kids scatter across the rink, their heads thrown back with laughter, their mitten-covered hands already gathering more ammo.

"Is that how you treat your hero?" I shout at them, shaking the snow off my back. "Really?"

I turn back to Sophia.

She’s standing at the edge of the rink like she’s above all this madness, hugging her expensive coat around her like it’s a bulletproof vest. Her lips are pursed in that particular way that tells me she’s about ten seconds away from turning on her heel and escaping.

Not happening.

“You’re in now, sweetheart,” I say, grinning as I yank her forward. She stumbles, her boots skidding slightly on the packed snow. “No backing out. You're an Icehawk now.”

“Excuse you,” she sputters, wrenching against my grip, but I just tighten my hold.

Her eyes flash, half outrage, half something else. Something that sends heat straight to my gut.

“I don’t do spontaneous team-building exercises,” she huffs.

I smirk, ignoring the way my chest tightens at how damn good she looks under the festival lights, cheeks pink from the cold, little wisps of hair escaping from under her hood.

“Too bad. You’re doing one now.”

I release her wrist for half a second, just long enough to grab the back of her coat and hoist her straight over my shoulder.

She screeches, her fists pounding against my back. “Put me down, you overgrown lump!”

I chuckle, adjusting my grip as I step deeper into the war zone. “What’s wrong, corporate girl ? You afraid of a little snow?”

Before she can launch a response - probably one that would burn me alive - a perfectly aimed snowball whacks her right in the shoulder, sending a dusting of white fluff into her glossy waves.

Sophia gasps, her body going rigid against mine.

I let her slide off my shoulder, grinning as she stumbles back to her feet with a look of pure horror on her face.

“Oh no,” I say mockingly. “Did someone get your fancy suede wet?”

Her eyes narrow, fire flashing behind those hazel depths. “You.”

She bends down so fast I barely have time to register what’s happening before…

Smack.

A snowball explodes directly against my face, ice and fluff splattering across my skin.

Holy shit.

The battlefield goes silent.

Then Connor whoops . “Damn, Maddox. She got you good!”

Logan lets out a low whistle. “Gotta admit. Kinda impressed.”

Even Coach Brody, who I heard muttering something about being ' too old for this shit' has paused mid-snowball-launch to smirk in my direction. “Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Cap?”

Sophia straightens, brushing snow off her sleeve. Then she smirks.

Oh, hell no.

I drag my glove down my face, shaking off the cold. My lips curl as I crouch low, scooping up a fresh handful of snow.

“You shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart.”

“Blake—” Her smirk falters. "Blake, no!"

She runs. And I fucking chase.

Snow explodes at my feet as I take off after Sophia, my boots crunching over the packed ice.

She’s fast, I’ll give her that.

She’s dodging between festival-goers, darting past Logan, who’s already busy pelting Connor in the side of the head, and narrowly avoiding the annual chaotic snowball war happening between the Icehawks and a gang of my sugar-hyped youth program kids.

But me?

I’ve spent my life chasing pucks down the ice. Ms. Corporate Executive doesn’t stand a chance.

I lunge, grabbing her around the waist just as she whips around to launch another snowball at me.

“Oh my god!”

She shrieks as I spin her in a tight circle, throwing us both into the middle of the madness. Snow bursts around us as a rogue snowball smashes into the ground nearby. The cold stings my face, but I barely feel it because Sophia is in my arms, twisting, flushed, laughing.

And damn if that wonderful fucking laugh doesn’t kick me straight in the chest.

“You absolute menace!” she gasps, breathless, wriggling against me.

I smirk, gripping her tighter. “That’s Captain Menace to you.”

Thwack.

A snowball whizzes past my ear, barely missing Sophia’s face.

Pure instinct takes over and I push up off the ice. "Right. Who threw that one?"

A wild echo of laughter echoes around the winter festival and I grab Sophia by the waist, yanking her against me just as another snowball whizzes past her cheek.

She gasps, her fingers clutching my jacket, and I don’t even think before I spin, tucking her against my chest, taking the hit instead.

Hit after hit, I take them all, moving quickly to flip us both to safety behind the rink boards. She lands hard, and I stumble, crash-landing right on top of her like a drunken penguin.

Her breath hitches.

Her hands are caught between us, palms pressed against my chest, fingers digging into my jacket.

Her eyes are wide , lips parted. "You are so annoying. This is ridiculous. Why have you dragged me into this?"

I grin down at her, breath still heaving. "Admit it, you're having fun."

Her eyes grow wide, so wide I can see every tiny fleck in the hazel depths. Beautiful. "Fun? You think this is fun?"

"Hell yeah! I saved your ass though."

She shoves at my chest. Big mistake.

Because now she's touching me.

“Oh yeah?” she huffs, trying and failing to look unimpressed. “From what, exactly? Children? ”

Her voice is sharp, but her hands are still on my chest. And my body is reacting before my brain can catch up.

Jesus fuck .

Her breath is warm against my lips, our noses almost brushing.

My hands flex against the barrier behind her, my knuckles grazing the exposed skin of her wrist. A full-body awareness slams into me, so fast, so fucking strong, that for half a second, I think about leaning in.

I forget about the program. I forget that's she's here to destroy it. I forget that she could ruin every logical thought I've had about keeping my distance from exactly this.

Then, THWACK.

A snowball slams into the side of my head, knocking the moment straight to hell.

“OH SHIT, I THINK I JUST HIT THE CAPTAIN!”

Fucking Ryder.

Sophia snorts. A real, unfiltered laugh that hits me harder than the snowball just did.

I curse, shaking the ice from my hair, then grab her hand and yank her forward.

“Move it, sweetheart,” I growl, dragging her with me as chaos erupts all over again. “Let's get out of here before we both end up buried in ice.”

Her fingers tighten in mine, and fuck if I don’t like the way that feels.

Too much.

Way too much.

Sophia’s panting beside me, her hand still wrapped in mine as we duck between two wooden booths away from the rink, tucking into a narrow alleyway out of sight from the endless line of stalls that are brimming with the festivities.

Snow clings to her coat, melting against the warm flush of her skin, her blonde hair wild from the chase, disheveled and so fucking pretty it hurts.

And she's laughing.

Not the restrained, polished chuckle I’ve heard before…

A real, breathless, belly-deep laugh.

The kind that shakes her shoulders and sends her entire body tilting, unbalanced until she leans against the wooden wall like she needs it to keep standing.

Her eyes shine, her cheeks are pink from the cold, and there’s snowflakes caught in the golden strands of her hair, melting before they even have a chance.

I fucking forget how to breathe she's so goddamn beautiful.

"That's insane back there. That can't be legal."

I grin. "You were having fun. Don't lie."

She braces one hand against the wall, chest rising and falling fast, pretending to glare at me like she hasn’t just been running through a winter wonderland laughing her ass off.

"I was not." Her glare holds about as much heat as a snowball. "I was running for my life from your mob of admirers."

"Sure looked like fun from where I was standing." I take a step closer, watching the way her breath catches. "All those smiles. That laugh."

"Pure terror. Seriously, what kind of captain incites a riot at his own winter festival?"

"Maybe the kind who wanted five minutes alone with you."

The teasing light in her eyes dims, replaced by something deeper, darker. More dangerous. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip, and my whole body tightens in response.

"Five minutes?" Her voice drops low, sending electricity down my spine. "That's... efficient."

"I can work with five minutes."

Another step closer. The space between us shrinks to nothing but shared breath and crackling tension.

Snow falls harder now, creating a curtain of white that blocks out the rest of the festival. The rest of the town. The rest of the entire fucking world.

It's just us, hidden away in this narrow alley where the festival lights can't reach us.

Her body sways closer, like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. Like something magnetic is dragging us together.

I should step back.

I should…

But then… her eyes flick down to my mouth.

And I’m fucking gone.

I grip her waist, tugging her the final inch forward, and she barely has time to suck in a sharp breath before I crash my lips to hers.

She makes a sound. Somewhere between a gasp and a moan, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

Jesus fucking Christ, she tastes good. Like cocoa and winter air, and a little bit like the damn smugness I've been dying to wipe off her face since the moment I saw her in my arena.

My tongue moves across hers as her hands fist in my jacket, gripping me like she doesn't want to let go.

I don't think I can let go.

I press her back against the wooden wall, deepening the kiss, letting her open her mouth for me, licking her, tasting her mouth as her moans against my lips, her nails starting to dig into my chest.

Fuck. I want more.

I slide my hand up her side, gripping her waist, pulling her body harder against me.

Can she feel how hard I am?

Does she realize what she's been doing to me all this time? Driving me wild with her stupid fucking ideas and goddamn sharp mouth, testing me at every turn and trying her damn best to take everything away from me.

And now, she's right here, breathless and flushed, her irritating curves pressed into me like she belongs there, like she's always belonged here.

Like she wants this as badly as I do.

Like… like…

"Caramel apple?"

And just like that, the moment is shattered.

We jerk apart, Sophia's lips still parted, her eyes wide and stunned, blown-out with something that I refuse to call lust.

A festival vendor stands at the mouth of the alleyway, completely oblivious to the crime she's just committed. She's balancing a cart of caramel-dipped apples and grinning at us like we're just some happy couple getting into the holiday spirit.

"No, tha-"

"Yeah, sure. Why not." Sophia turns to the vendor and smiles.

Of course.

I'm just standing here, adjusting the bulge in my pants and still reeling from the taste of her, but according to her, that's as good a time as any to get fucking dessert.

Because she's Sophia Hart.

And she can never let me have the last fucking word.

I scrub a hand over my jaw, trying to swallow down the frustration curling tight and hot in my gut.

If I had even half a second more, I would’ve had her whimpering my name against that wall. Instead? She’s ordering a fucking caramel apple.

I think I’m going to die.

Sophie clears her throat, still looking dazed despite the stupid apple in her hand. "W-we, uh… we should-"

"Yeah," I grunt. "We should get back to the festival."