Page 25 of Offside Attraction

He doesn’t break eye contact as he reaches out, grabs my elbow, and pulls me toward the corner of the rink. My skates scrape against the ice as I’m dragged with him.

“The fuck is your problem?” I snap, yanking my arm from his grip.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Hayes says, running a hand through his dark hair.

Fuck.

Why does he look good doing that?

No. Stop it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, his tone sharp, threaded with anger.

“Trying out for the team,” I reply casually. “Obviously.”

Hayes lets out a low, humorless laugh. It sounds dangerous. His breath ghosts across my face, and only then do I realize how close we are.

Too close.

I should step back.

I don’t.

“Since when are you a hockey guy?” he says. “There are other sports, Dakota. Why hockey?”

I almost laugh.

And then it hits me.

He said my name.

Not my last name. NotMiller.

Dakota.

Back in middle school, he never used it. Not once.

Hearing it now—soft, effortless, rolling off his tongue—does something to me. A sharp, unwanted pull low in my gut. I hate my name less whenhesays it.

Fuck.

I square my shoulders, forcing the reaction down. The last thing Hayes Griffin ever needs to know is that some traitorous part of me still responds to him.

“What?” I scoff, rolling my tongue against my bottom lip as I meet his stare. “You got a problem with me trying out?”

I lean in just enough to make it uncomfortable.

“Or are you scared I might actually be better than you?” I add. “That maybe people won’t take you so seriously anymore?”

His jaw tightens. He bites his bottom lip, nostrils flaring, his pale skin flushed with anger.

“What are you trying to prove?” he snaps. “Is this some pathetic payback because you couldn’t stand up for yourself four years ago?”

Then he smiles.

Cold. Cruel.

“Grow the fuck up, Dakota,” he says. “You’re still the same little girl I used to hit.”