Page 13 of Ice-Cold Obsession

But it’s working.

I think back to the practice and the way she moved around the rink with her camera. She spent a lot of time photographing me. I saw her lens pointed in my direction more than once, capturing my shots and my plays. So she has the photos. She just chose not to post them.

Why?

She might think ignoring me will make me want her more. It’s probably one of those bullshit games that’s supposed to make me hers forever.

I scroll through the photos one more time, studying each one. The other guys are going to love them, and that’s probably the point. She wants to make everyone else feel special while keeping me in the background, and she might have decided to go for one of my teammates, so she’s hoping to get his attention.

It’s clever. I’ll give her that.

But it’s also a mistake.

I’m not the kind of guy who fades into the background or who people ignore. And if Scarlett thinks she can treat me like I’m just another player on the team, she’s about to learn how wrong she is.

I lower down my phone. The frustration simmering under my skin is the same as when a play doesn’t go the way I want it on the ice. But I know how to channel it and how to turn it into something useful.

Scarlett wants to play games? Fine.

I’ll play, and I’ll win.

Because I bet she’s not as uninterested as she’s pretending to be. I grab my phone again and find her profile, looking for anything I might have missed. But there’s still nothing. No hints about what she’s really like or what she wants, just a few carefully curated photos that give away almost nothing.

She’s good at hiding.

But everyone slips eventually and reveals what they didn’t mean to. And when Scarlett does, I’ll be watching.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance down at the screen. Unknown number.

Zyair.

I stare at the name for a long moment. Fuck.

I want to argue and say this is bullshit, and that there has to be another way. But I know there’s no arguing, because there never is.

I swear under my breath. My hands curl into fists, and I can feel the tension radiating through my shoulders.

Zyair is one of my teammates. A winger who’s almost as good as I am, and the kind of guy who could be captain material if I wasn’t already wearing the C. He’s talented and respected, and everyone on the team looks up to him.

And now his name is on my screen.

I get to my feet, trying to think of a way out of this. My chest feels tight, and my jaw is clenched so hard it hurts.

This isn’t supposed to happen. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do and followed every rule, and nothing ever changes.

I set my phone face down on the desk and sit back down on the bed. I can’t think about this right now. I need to focus on what I can actually control.

Like Scarlett.

She’s the kind of distraction that keeps my mind off everything else.

She seems so innocent and so sweet, but I’m starting to think there’s more going on under the surface than she’s letting on.

And I’m going to find out what it is.

Chapter 7

SCARLETT