Page 46 of Offside Attraction

I glance up just in time to catch Hayes’s eyes. His stare is sharp—mocking, taunting—and then his lips curl into a slow, malicious smirk. A shiver runs down my spine, every hair on my body standing on end.

Sick bastard.

The scrimmage resumes, faster now, rougher. I feel locked in, confident, like I finally belong on this ice.

Then—impact.

Hayes cuts sharply toward me.

“Watch out!” he yells.

Too late.

He sticks his skate out just as I pivot, and my balance is gone. I hit the ice hard, palms burning as they scrape against the cold surface.

Laughter erupts around us.

I shove myself upright, fury blazing as my eyes lock onto Hayes.

“Are you okay, Dakota?” Lance and Zach ask at the same time.

I don’t answer.

I skate straight toward Hayes.

“What the hell was that?” I snap.

He only smirks.

“Guess you need to work on your balance, Dakota,” he says, mockery dripping from every syllable.

I grit my teeth, forcing myself not to react to the way my name sounds coming from his mouth.

Oh, he’s going to pay.

The humiliation burns, sharp and bitter. This is exactly what I signed up for—to face him, to take back what he stole from me. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier when he stands there, smug and untouchable.

I push the anger down, straighten, and skate back into position. Determination coils tight in my chest.

Coach Rivera’s whistle cuts through the tension.

We gather around.

Hayes stands across from me, his dark eyes still locked on mine, blazing with something unreadable.

“You okay, Miller?” Coach Rivera asks.

“Yes, Coach.”

Hayes might think he won this round.

But I’m just getting started.

Thatnight,afterpractice,I collapsed onto my bed, still feeling the adrenaline from the day and the heavy weight in my chest. My muscles ache, but my mind won’t shut off. I should feel proud about making the team. It’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? To finally show Hayes he doesn’t have control over me anymore. But the more I think about it, the emptier it feels. Tripp was right—it’s a big deal, especially with Hayes as captain. But something about it feels… hollow.

I didn’t just join the team to play hockey. I did it to prove a point, to show Hayes Griffin I’m not the same weak kid he used to push around. And yeah, part of me loves the idea of messing with his perfect world. But another part… another part wonders if it’s worth it.

My hand absently drifts to the old hockey jersey tossed on the chair in the corner of the room—my dad’s. He would’ve been proud of me today. Hell, he would’ve been the first person to throw his arm around me, tell me how I’ve got the same fire he did when he played. I try to remember the way he used to talk about the game, how it wasn’t just about winning but about heart, about pushing yourself beyond what anyone else expects of you.