Page 100 of Offside Attraction

Shay doesn’t flinch. If anything, she seems amused by my bluntness. “Whatever floats your boat, Dakota,” she says with a shrug. “But isn’t that what everyone does, in their own way? Use people to fill the gaps, to make life a little easier, a little less lonely?”

Her words hit harder than I expect them to, but I mask it with a laugh, hollow and sharp. “Sounds depressing.”

“It’s realistic,” she counters, turning fully to face me now. “Not everyone gets some grand love story, Dakota. Sometimes, you take what you can get. And sometimes… You just settle.”

Her gaze lingers on me, her meaning clear even if she doesn’t say it outright. I cross my arms over my chest, my defenses rising. “So, what? You’re telling me you settled for Hayes because you’re too scared to be alone?”

Shay’s smirk fades, replaced by a flicker of something more vulnerable. “I didn’t say that,” she replies softly. “But maybe Hayes and I aren’t as different as you think. We both know what it’s like to want something we can’t have.”

The air between us feels heavy, charged with unspoken truths, and I don’t know what to say. Before I can think of a response, Shay sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

“And don’t get me wrong,” she starts, her voice quieter now, “I really like Hayes, but I don’t think he feels the same. I’ve always had my doubts, but I wasn’t sure. Well, not until you showed up.”

With that, she turns and walks away, her heels clicking softly against the steps. I watch her go, the weight of her words settling over me like a storm cloud. It’s not the first time someone’s hinted at something between Hayes and me, but coming from Shay, it feels different—heavier, more real.

And that’s the part that scares me the most.

CHAPTER 26

Therinkistheone place I can really let go—of the drama clogging my head, of the constant anger simmering under my skin, of the boy I fucking hate more than anything. Out here, none of that is supposed to matter. Just the ice. Just the game.

It’s Friday, and Coach Rivera is in one of his moods. The kind where he runs us like we’re being punished for breathing wrong, determined to break us down before our first game of the season next week. The Crestview Kings don’t step onto the ice untested.

I catch sight of Hayes on the far side of the rink.

He’s impossible to miss.

Ezra and Finn skate beside him, flanking him like loyal guards as he cuts across the ice with infuriating ease. The Kings’ captain. The golden boy. The crown fits him too well—confident posture, sharp turns, head held high like he knows the ice bends to him.

We’ve been avoiding each other since detention. No words. No confrontations. Just sharp looks thrown like knives whenever we cross paths. Out here, we pretend to be civil for the sake of the team. The Kings don’t air their internal wars in public.

“Hey, Dakota.”

I turn at the familiar voice.

Lance skates up to me, slowing to a stop, his grin easy but his eyes sharp with curiosity.

“Hey, man,” I reply, returning the smile, even though my focus keeps drifting back to the far end of the rink.

The ice is brutal beneath my skates, unforgiving and cold, but it’s the kind of punishment I understand. My legs burn. My lungs ache. Every sharp stop sends pain straight up my spine—but it’s clean pain. Honest pain. Out here, nothing else exists.

Coach Rivera’s voice cuts through the air like a whip.

“Miller! Push harder! You don’t earn a Kings jersey by coasting!”

I grit my teeth and dig in.

“Griffin! Don’t get lazy on me. Captains set the pace—move!”

My chest tightens at the sound of his name, but I don’t look. I refuse to. I lock into the drills, into the rhythm, into the scrape of steel against ice. Hayes Griffin doesn’t get space in my head today.

But it’s impossible not to notice him.

He skates like he owns the place—fast, precise, every movement deliberate. Like the rink is his court and the rest of us are just pieces moving around him. It makes my blood boil. I hate how good he is. Hate how effortless it looks. Hate that the Kings were built around him long before I ever set foot back here.

“Hey—you.”

Zach slides up beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts as I turn to face him.