Page 64 of Offside Attraction

“Yeah.”

“Seriously, Dakota. You know you don’t have to do it.”

“I know,” I say. “But my competitive side won’t back down. I’m not apologizing to Hayes for challenging him in front of the whole team. Fuck no.”

Tripp whistles softly. “Damn. I wish I could be there to watch everything unfold, but I’ve got basketball practice.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. Just—be careful. It’s scary enough that you’re putting your life in the hands of your enemy.”

“I’m a big boy,” I say. “I can take care of myself.”

He nods. “Good luck, my friend. Oh—and by the way? Kris has the hots for you.”

“Tell her to cool it.”

He laughs. “She’s hot.”

“I know. I’m just not into her.”

Tripp raises his brows. “Got anyone specific youareinto?”

I roll my eyes. “Nah.”

He clearly doesn’t buy it, but he lets it go. “Alright. All good.”

I might have the hots for Hayes—which I’m still not ready to fully admit—but Tripp doesn’t need to know that. It’s bad enough that I might be attracted to my worst enemy. Maybe it’s just that: attraction. Complicated. Fucked up.

And soon enough, it’ll wear off.

Hopefully.

CHAPTER 14

Theairinsidetherink is frigid, a stark contrast to the fire burning in my chest as I stand at the center of the ice, surrounded by an arena that feels both familiar and alien. The bright overhead lights cast sharp shadows on the smooth, glistening surface, making it look like a pristine battleground. I can hear the distant sounds of laughter and chatter from the few teammates gathered in the bleachers, their faces a mix of excitement and disbelief at the sight of me about to attempt something so reckless.

I glance over at Hayes, who’s standing just off the ice, arms crossed and a confident grin plastered across his face. He looks like he was born to be in charge, and the fact that he’s about to guide me through this dare only heightens my anxiety. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the pit in my stomach grows heavier with every passing second.

“Are you ready?” Hayes calls out, his voice teasing, echoing off the walls of the rink.

“Yeah, just—give me a second,” I reply, my voice sharper than I intend. I reach up and tug the blindfold over my eyes, letting the darkness engulf me. The fabric is soft against my skin, but the moment I can’t see the ice beneath my feet, my heart starts to race.

I take a tentative step forward, feeling the coolness of the rink seep through my skates. My body tenses, muscles coiling as I concentrate on the sound of Hayes’s voice.

“Alright, Miller,” he says, his tone suddenly serious. “Start skating forward. Just take it easy. You’ve got this.”

I push off with my right foot, gliding slowly. My instincts kick in, and I feel the familiar rhythm of skating return. I focus on the sound of his voice, using it as my guide. With each push, I gain confidence, allowing myself to move faster, the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“Good, now to the left,” he instructs, and I veer slightly to my left, trusting him implicitly, despite the nagging doubt in the back of my mind.

“Keep going, keep going! You’re doing great!”

I feel a rush of exhilaration as I navigate through the rink, the air cold against my cheeks, my heart pounding in sync with my movements. But that excitement is short-lived.

“Now, turn right,” Hayes directs, and without thinking, I pivot my body.

Suddenly, a flicker of intuition whispers that something is off. “Wait,” I hesitate, but Hayes’s voice pushes me forward.