Page 35

Chapter 35

JAMIE

M y stick feels heavy as I step onto the ice for practice, weighed down by everything unsaid. Rylan's already out there, of course, the perfect captain, acting like nothing's wrong. Like he didn't shatter both our hearts this morning.

"Looking a little rough, Pirelli," Charlie comments as I join the warm-up laps. "Big celebration last night?"

"Something like that."

Louis gives me a sharp look as he skates past, too perceptive as always. But I focus on the ice, on my edges, on anything except how Rylan won't meet my eyes.

"First line!" Coach calls. "Let's see that chemistry from last night!"

My stomach lurches. Because even now, even with everything falling apart, our bodies know this dance. The puck finds me exactly where Rylan knew I'd be, his pass landing perfectly on my tape. Like always. Like nothing's changed.

Except everything has.

"Beautiful!" Coach yells as I bury it top shelf over Tanner's shoulder. "That's what I'm talking about!"

I risk a glance at Rylan, but his captain's mask is firmly in place. Only someone who's seen him fall apart, who's watched him let those walls down, would notice how his hands shake slightly on his stick.

"Again!" Coach demands.

We run the play over and over, each perfect connection a fresh wound.

"Pirelli!" Austin's sharp voice breaks through my spiral. "Head in the game!"

I've missed a pass - the first time that's happened in months. Rylan's expression doesn't change, but I see him flinch slightly.

"Sorry," I mutter, retrieving the puck. "Won't happen again."

"Everything okay?" Louis asks quietly as we circle back. "You seem..."

"Fine." The lie tastes bitter. "Just tired."

His eyes flick between Rylan and me, too knowing. "Right."

The rest of practice passes in a blur of motion and barely contained emotion. Every time Rylan and I connect on a play, which is still often, I see the rest of the team exchange looks. They know something's off, even if they don't know what.

"Good work!" Coach calls finally. "Hit the showers.

My stomach drops. Rylan's shoulders tense almost imperceptibly.

"I've got this," Austin says suddenly, moving to block the locker room door. "You two head in first."

The protectiveness in his voice makes my throat tight. He doesn't know what's wrong, but he knows something is.

In the locker room, the silence between Rylan and me feels deafening. We move through our usual routines, carefully maintaining distance, but I can't stop stealing glances. Can't stop remembering how different this was yesterday, when everything felt possible.

"Jamie." Louis's voice is low as he appears beside me. "Whatever's going on..."

"Don't." My voice cracks slightly. "Please."

He squeezes my shoulder once, understanding.

"Heads up," Riley appears in the doorway. "Media's getting pushy. They're asking about some weird rumor some blogger started-"

"I'll handle it," Rylan cuts in smoothly, his captain's voice perfect and controlled. Like he didn't whisper my name as he came only a few hours ago.

"They're actually asking for you and Pirelli," Riley says carefully. "They're specifically asking for both of you."

My eyes meet Rylan's across the room. For just a second, I see everything he's trying to hide - the fear, the pain, the desperate need to protect himself. Then his walls slam back up.

"Let's get this over with," he says professionally.

As we head toward the media scrum, I remember his words from this morning: We have to deny it.

My heart cracks a little more with each step.

The reporters descend before we even make it down the hallway. Their questions overlap, aggressive and hungry:

"Rylan, care to comment on rumors about your relationship with Pirelli?"

"Jamie, is this similar to situations in Florida?"

"How long has this been going on?"

"Sources suggest inappropriate conduct between teammates-"

My stomach churns, but I keep my media smile firmly in place. Next to me, Rylan is perfectly composed - every inch the responsible team captain.

"I appreciate everyone's interest," Rylan says smoothly, his voice carrying that easy authority that made me fall for him in the first place. "But these rumors are completely unfounded. Jamie is a talented linemate and a valued teammate. Nothing more."

The words hit like body checks. Nothing more. Nothing more. Nothing more.

"But witnesses report seeing you two in compromising positions—"

"My relationship with Pirelli is purely professional." Rylan's tone could freeze hell. "Any suggestion otherwise is not only false but potentially damaging to team chemistry."

I force myself to nod, to look appropriately dismissive of the rumors. But inside I'm screaming. Because this isn't like what happened in Florida—this isn't malicious assholes spreading lies, just trying to hurt me. This is real . This is everything I've wanted since I first saw him.

And he's standing there calling it "unfounded."

"Jamie?" A reporter thrusts a mic in my face. "Any comment on these allegations?"

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Because what can I say? That watching Rylan deny us is killing me? That I understand why he's doing it but it still feels like having my heart ripped out?

"I think we've addressed this sufficiently," Rylan cuts in, his captain's authority brooking no argument. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have team obligations."

As we turn to leave, I catch his expression cracking for just a fraction of a second. The pain in his eyes matches the ache in my chest.

But then his walls slam back up, and he's striding away, every movement precise and controlled. Like he didn't just deny everything we could have been.

Like he didn't just break both our hearts.