Page 12 of Devil on Skates

XAVIER

THE HOUSE IS FULL OF people, and the music is so loud that everything seems like it’s vibrating with it. This is Andrei’s party, so it’s classier than the one where I first ran into Irina. But here everyone knows me, and all my teammates are here.

“Dude, Andrei actually has decent booze,” Ronan says, checking out the bottles lined up on the kitchen counter. “It’s not the usual party crap.”

I nod but barely register it, scanning the room instead. I haven’t told Ronan or anyone else why I’m really here. There’s no point in explaining that I’m waiting for Irina to show up, since I was there when Coach asked Andrei to invite her, which was totally cringe but a perfect opportunity for me.

“Looking for someone?” Ronan asks, clearly picking up on my vibe.

“Just scoping things out,” I say, taking a beer even though I don’t really want it.

Staying alert tonight matters more than blending in.

He follows my eyes as I sweep the room. “Coach’s daughter isn’t here, if that’s what you’re wondering. I haven’t seen her.”

I glance at him. “I wasn’t—”

“Save it,” he interrupts, worry creasing his brow. “Whatever game you’re playing with her, remember it’s not just your ass on the line if Coach finds out.”

Before I can say anything, Ronan spots a group of girls by the fireplace and wanders off. But he’s right about the risk. Except, he doesn’t get that it just fires me up more. Easy wins don’t do it for me.

I plant myself near the front door, chatting with teammates but keeping the entrance in sight. Soon, my patience pays off.

Irina walks in with Keith, and everything about their body language clashes.

Keith’s all confident, one hand resting possessively at her lower back as he steers her inside.

Irina’s smile looks forced, her shoulders tense under her simple but classy top.

She’s playing the role of the perfect girlfriend for the right guy.

Seeing them together lights a familiar fire in my chest. Watching Keith touch her like he owns her, even here, feels like a challenge, and I’m definitely answering.

I stay put, watching how they move through the party.

Keith’s got that smooth businessman charm, introducing her to people like she’s part of a deal.

Irina plays along, shaking hands and chatting, but I notice the little things that others don’t.

Her fake smile, the way she pulls away from his touch when she thinks no one’s looking, and how her eyes drift toward the exit like she’s plotting an escape.

I wait for the right moment. Then Keith leans in and says something into her ear. She nods, and he walks off, probably to refill their drinks.

Perfect timing.

I move through the crowd. She’s standing alone at the edge of the dance floor, watching couples with a distant look.

“Dance with me,” I whisper into her ear, already grabbing her wrist.

She stiffens, spinning around with wide eyes that quickly flash to alarm. “Xavier! What are you—?”

I don’t let her finish, pulling her gently but firmly onto the dance floor where other couples provide cover. “Just one dance.”

“Let go of me,” she hisses, trying to slip free without making a scene. “Keith will be back any second.”

“Keith thinks we’re friends,” I say, loosening my grip but sliding my hands to her waist. “Old party acquaintances, remember? That’s the story he believes.”

Her eyes narrow. “This is wrong. I need to—”

“What you need,” I say, pulling her closer as the music slows down, “is to stop fighting what’s between us. Dance with me, or I’ll make a scene that your boyfriend and everyone else will notice.”

Her eyes flick toward the kitchen, then back to me, calculating the embarrassment of a scene versus just going along.

“One dance.” She places her hands on my shoulders but keeps all the space she can. “Then you leave me alone.”

I grin, savoring the small win. “You look amazing tonight,” I say. “But I liked the glitter and lace from the last party better.”

Her cheeks redden. Is it anger? Embarrassment? Probably both.

“Stop bringing up that party. It was a mistake,” she says.

“Funny way to define a mistake,” I tease, running my thumbs in small circles at her waist. “Most people don’t kiss back so eagerly when they regret something.”

“I hate you,” she whispers, but the catch in her breath tells a different story.

“No, you don’t.” I pull her closer, keeping us away from Keith’s line of sight. “You hate how I make you feel... How I mess up your neat little life. How I make you want stuff you’ve been taught not to want.”

Her eyes widen, probably because she realizes I’m right, but she narrows them again in defiance. “You don’t know me, and you don’t know what I want.”

“I know you’re tired,” I say softly, leaning in. “Tired of being the perfect daughter, the perfect girlfriend, and the perfect student. You want someone who sees the real you.”

“And you think that’s you?” she scoffs, but I see doubt flickering in her eyes. “The arrogant hockey player stalking me across town and threatening to make a scene if I don’t dance with him?”

“I’m the only one who’s ever made you feel alive,” I say flat-out. “Admit it.”

She opens her mouth, then shuts it, her jaw tight, her eyes searching mine for a beat too long. Before she can answer, I spot Keith coming back from the kitchen with two drinks and scanning the room for Irina.

Perfect.

Without warning, I pull her tightly against me, closing the gap she’s been keeping. My hand slides to her lower back, pressing her close. I cup her face with the other, my thumb brushing her cheek like she’s mine.

“What are you—?” Her eyes snap to mine, startled.

Keith spots us, and I meet his gaze over her shoulder with a smile on my lips. Then I lean in like I’m about to kiss her, my lips hovering above hers but not quite touching. From Keith’s angle, I’m sure it looks like a real kiss.

When I glance at Keith again, his brows draw together, confusion flashing on his face, then his jaw tightens, his eyes blazing. I hold his gaze.

No shame, just a challenge.

The message is loud and clear. She’s mine. Always has been.

Keith slams the drinks down on a nearby table, spilling some, and storms toward the exit, shoving through the crowd like a madman.

“What did you do?” Irina asks, following my gaze. “Oh shit, did you just—?”

“Your boyfriend’s pissed,” I say with a smirk. “Looks like he’s not buying the just-friends story anymore.”

She shoves me hard, breaking away from me. “You planned this! You wanted to provoke him.”

“I just sped up the inevitable,” I say, not even pretending to be sorry. “A relationship built on duty and pretending wasn’t going to last anyway.”

“You had no right,” she snaps, her nostrils flaring. “This isn’t a game! This is my life you’re playing with.”

“Every game has stakes. The real question is, are you playing to win or just going through the motions for someone else?”

She stares at me, her jaw clenched, but something else is flickering beneath the surface. Without another word, she pushes through the crowd toward the exit.

I watch her go, feeling more satisfaction than regret. Tonight wasn’t about holding her close. It was about breaking the forced bond between her and Keith.

Mission accomplished.

Ronan approaches me. “Please tell me that wasn’t what it looked like, and you didn’t just piss off Noel Costello’s son while hitting on Coach’s daughter. In front of everyone.”

I shrug, unfazed. “Looked like dancing to me.”

“Dancing?” He laughs. “You were a step away from full-on making out, with her boyfriend right there.”

“Ex-boyfriend.” I grin. “I doubt he’ll stick around after tonight.”

Ronan tilts his head, clearly questioning my sanity. “You’re actually proud of this? Since when do you mess with other people’s relationships?”

Sure, I’m all about competition on the ice or in school, but this? It’s not something I’ve done before, so no wonder he’s surprised. Maybe I am a little too.

“Since I realized she’s with him for the wrong reasons,” I say. “He’s not what she wants. He’s what her dad set up for her.”

“And you think you know better than her?” He shoots me a sideways glance, his voice clipped and a little cold.

“I know she wants me.”

He shakes his head. “Even if that’s true, you’re playing with fire. Coach will come down on you hard if he finds out. The Costellos could ruin you. Is she worth that?”

Is Irina worth risking my hockey career? My family’s connections? My future?

Yes. Absolutely yes.

“She’ll come to me,” I say. “Now that Keith’s seen us together, he’s going to question everything. She’ll have to choose, and I already know who she’ll pick.”

“Your funeral,” Ronan mutters. “Don’t forget that the whole team depends on you. Whatever mess comes from this, it’s not just on you.”

He storms off.

He’s right to worry. If Coach finds out about my chase, it could mess with the whole team and our chances at winning the championship.

But somehow, I don’t care.

I want her, and only her.