Page 9

KATERINA

The way Aiden looks at me sets me on edge. Not in the way that makes me want to run. No, it’s the kind of tension that coils in my stomach, the kind that makes me feel restless like I need to prove something to him—to myself. And I hate that. I hate that he gets under my skin like this.

I also hate that I keep catching myself staring at his hands. It’s stupid, really. But there’s something about the way he grips his hockey stick, the way his fingers flex, his veins standing out against his skin—it’s distracting.

And distraction is dangerous.

Because I have enough on my plate without getting tangled up in Aiden Knight, I shove the thought away as I step into the lecture hall for Biology. Alina’s sitting in the second row, flipping through her notebook. I slide into the seat beside her and drop my bag onto the desk.

She glances up, smiling. “You look—”

She pauses, eyes narrowing. “Oh my god. You’re flustered.”

I scoff. “I am not flustered.”

She leans in, voices low.

“Did something happen with him?”

I know who she’s referring to. Why would she think anything could happen between Aiden and me? We both hate each other. “No.”

A pause.

“Did you want something to happen with him?”

I shoot her a glare. “Alina.”

She smirks but doesn’t push for now. Before she can interrogate me further, Roman and Alexei drop into the seats behind us. Roman looks annoyingly smug as if he knows something I don’t.

I sigh. “What?”

Roman grins. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

Alexei rests his chin on his hand, watching the exchange with mild amusement. “He’s just excited that Alina didn’t push him away last night.”

Alina turns bright red. “I—I was tired.”

Roman smirks. “Of course you were.”

I exchange a knowing look with Alexei. They’re so obvious. But before I can tease them, my body tenses.

Aiden walks in with Will and Grayson, looking effortlessly confident, like he owns the room. He spots me almost immediately, his lips twitching like he’s waiting for me to react. I don’t give him the satisfaction.

I turn back to my notes, determined to ignore him. It doesn’t work.

Because instead of sitting in his usual seat, he slides into the empty one next to me. I try to snap at him or say something snarky, but my brain is in a haze from his presence. He carries a scent that lingers- clean, rich, and undeniably intoxicating, a mix of crisp cedar-wood and warm amber clings to his skin, softened by the faintest trace of vanilla and citrus. I can’t help but breath him in. Why is he sitting next to me? Alina’s eyes widen. Roman’s eyebrows shoot up. Alexei whistles under his breath. And Aiden? The cocky bastard just leans back in his chair like this is normal.

“Comfortable?”

I mutter. “Very.”

I grip my pen tighter. I hate him.

Class starts, and I do my best to focus, but it’s impossible with Aiden sitting so close. He’s too big, too warm, too there. At one point, he stretches his arm out along the back of my chair. Not touching me, but close enough that I feel the heat of him.

I don’t react.

I won’t give him the satisfaction.

I take my time flipping through my notes, tapping my pen against the desk with deliberate precision. I make a show of leaning forward, blocking his view of my page, knowing full well that he wasn’t even looking at my notes in the first place. Aiden doesn’t move his arm. If anything, I think he leans in a little closer. I clench my jaw and focus on the professor, deep into a lecture about mental resilience in athletes. Fitting. I could use some of that right now.

Alina nudges me under the desk, her phone screen angled toward me.

Do we need a distraction? Blink twice.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I type back: I will murder you.

She just smirks.

Aiden shifts beside me, tapping his pen lazily against his notebook. He’s not even pretending to take notes. “You’re not even listening,”

I whisper.

“Neither are you,”

he murmurs back.

I grit my teeth. “Unlike you, I need to pass this class.”

His lips twitch. “Don’t flatter yourself. I already passed Biology last semester.”

I whip my head toward him. “Then why are you here?”

He leans in just a fraction, voices low and smug. “Thought it’d be fun.”

I stare at him, my pulse pounding in my ears. He’s here just to mess with me and to get under my skin. I should ignore him. I should rise above it.

Instead, I shift in my seat ever so slightly, angling my body so his arm, still draped lazily over the back of my chair, brushes against my shoulder.

Aiden stills.

I don’t look at him. I keep my gaze fixed ahead, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.

Good.

Two can play this game.

After class, I don’t wait around. I shove my notebook into my bag and bolt toward the door, ignoring the amused glances from Alina and Roman. I make it halfway down the hall before a voice stops me.

“Running away, Angel Face?”

I spin around, scowling. “Stop calling me that.”

Aiden grins like he enjoys pissing me off. Which he does.

“Can’t take the heat?”

he taunts, stepping closer. “I don’t feel like dealing with your inflated ego today.”

“You sure about that?”

He raises a brow, eyes flicking down

to my lips. The air between us tightens, charged. I should walk away.

I don’t.

Instead, I cross my arms. “You think I’d fall for this?”

His grin deepens. “Oh, I know you will.”

The absolute audacity of this man.

I open my mouth to fire back, but before I can, Roman and Alexei stroll up, clearly entertained.

“What’s this?”

Roman muses, eyeing the tension between us. “Another lovers’ quarrel?”

I groan. “Not even close.”

Aiden just smirks. “Yet.”

I’m going to kill him. Alexei sighs. “Can you two just kiss and get it over with? The sexual tension is unbearable.”

I whip around. “Alexei.”

“What? It’s true.”

Aiden laughs. “He’s got a point. You clearly find me attractive.”

I shove past them, ignoring the way my skin feels hot. “You’re all insufferable.”

Aiden calls after me, “You love it.”

I flip him off without looking back.

By the time training rolls around, I’ve convinced myself I’m over it.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. We’re running drills, the sound of skates cutting through the ice sharp in the otherwise quiet rink. I focus on my movements, the rhythm of my strides, the familiar comfort of being here, where nothing else matters.

And then Aiden skates up next to me. I sigh. “Do you ever go away?”

“Nope.”

I roll my eyes and push ahead, but he matches my pace effortlessly.

“Let’s make it interesting,” he says.

I glance at him warily. “What?”

“A race. You and me. One lap, full speed.”

I snort. “I’d win.”

He smirks. “Prove it.”

It’s stupid. I know it’s ridiculous. But Aiden challenges me, and I can never back down from a challenge.

“Fine,” I say.

We line up at the edge of the rink. Alina, Roman, and Alexei catch on quickly, skating to the boards to watch. Roman whistles. “This should be good.”

The coach hasn’t arrived yet, so we won’t get yelled at for goofing off. Grayson skates over, a knowing smile on his face. “On my count,” he says.

Aiden and I crouch low, ready.

“Three… two… one… go!”

I shoot forward, pushing hard, my skates cutting deep into the ice. I don’t look at Aiden. I focus on the rhythm of my strides, the way the cold air stings against my skin. Halfway through, we’re neck and neck. I grit my teeth and push harder, determination burning in my veins.

Out of nowhere, Aiden bumps into me.

It’s subtle. Just enough to throw me off balance. I stumble, my skate catching the ice, and suddenly I’m falling. I brace for impact, but an arm catches me before I hit the ice. Aiden.

We crash together, skidding across the ice in a tangled mess of limbs until we finally land, Aiden underneath me like a warm, padded mattress of muscle.

For a second, I don’t move. Aiden cheated.

“You cheated!”

Aiden grins up at me, flat on his back, still holding onto me. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

I shove his arm away, sitting up. “You bumped me!”

“It’s called strategy, Angel Face.”

I glare. “It’s called being an asshole.”

He just smirks. “Same thing.”

Alina skates over, trying and failing to hold back laughter. “Wow, that was… something.”

Roman claps his hands. “I’m giving that a solid nine for the fall alone.”

I groan, shoving myself up. Aiden follows, brushing ice off his jersey.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I want a rematch.”

He winks. “Whenever you want, Angel Face.”

I whip off my glove and chuck it at him. He ducks, laughing.

I officially hate him.