Page 5

Chapter five

~ AVERY~

I hesitate, staring at the expanse of ice in front of me. It’s been years since I’ve stepped foot on this rink, and every second I’m here, memories of that day start flooding in. My hands tremble, and I curl them into fists at my sides, trying to shake the images out of my head.

Damien gets on the ice first, making a small circle before gliding back to the entrance. I swallow hard, watching how natural it all seems to him. He was made for this.

“Ready?” His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I lie, my heart already thudding in my chest. I nod, even though every instinct tells me to turn around and leave before embarrassing myself in front of him.

I step onto the ice, and instantly, a chill rushes through me. My muscles lock, my mind screaming at me to get off. The last time—no, I won’t think about that.

“Welcome back on the ice.” Damien’s warm hand suddenly wraps around mine, anchoring me. I look down at it, his tattoos peeking out from under his hoodie. “Now, try to relax. I got you.”

I take a breath and force myself to nod, even though my heart’s hammering so hard it feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest. I glance at the door, half-expecting Rowan to burst in and drag me out.

Damien starts moving, gliding effortlessly across the ice with me in tow. I try to focus on the sensation of skating again, but all I can think about is how quickly things can go wrong and how angry Rowan will be once he finds out. He always does.

“You’re too stiff,” Damien’s voice cuts in, his tone calm, but there’s that playful edge to it. “Your body remembers how to do this, but your mind’s getting in the way.”

I glance at him, frustration building. “I’m trying.”

He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re doing fine. Just let your weight shift naturally, and stop overthinking every move.”

“Easy for a professional hockey player to say to a newborn giraffe,” I blurt out, and Damien laughs, the sound echoing through the space.

“I don’t think newborn giraffes are able to do double axels,” he counters, amused. “You are,” he adds with a little nod.

“Not anymore,” I murmur, the thought sadder now that I’ve vocalized it.

The amusement vanishes from his eyes for a moment, and his eyes fall to the ice in front of us. He remains silent as he turns to face me, my hand still in his.

He’s skating backwards now, pulling me along effortlessly. “Bend your knees a little more, soften your stance. You’re fighting the ice.”

I try to follow his instructions, my legs shaking beneath me. My gaze stays glued to his feet, watching the smooth and confident way he moves. I wish I could move like that. But the more I focus on trying to mirror him, the more I feel my balance slipping.

Suddenly, my left skate wobbles, and I feel my body tipping sideways. My breath catches in my throat as panic shoots through me, but before I can even start to fall, Damien’s there. His hands grip my waist, pulling me upright in one swift motion.

“Whoa. Easy,” he says, his breath warm against my ear. He’s close now, too close, and my heart skips a beat for an entirely different reason. “You okay?”

I nod, my face flushing. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He doesn’t let go right away, though. His hands linger, strong and steady against my waist, and when he finally steps back, he gives me a smile.

Dammit.

“Let’s try again,” he says, still watching me intently. “This time, push off your right foot first, then glide. Focus on me, not the ice.”

Right. Focus on him… as if that’s supposed to help.

I do what he says, pushing off and letting the ice carry me forward. His hand slips away from mine, and I feel like I’ve just lost my life jacket. My skates feel unsteady beneath me, but Damien’s calm gaze gives me some confidence. He’s skating backward, his strides powerful yet graceful, his entire body in sync with the rhythm of the ice. He makes it look so effortless.

“Good. Now, shift your weight a little more when you turn,” he instructs, skating circles around me like it’s nothing. “Don’t force it. Just let the momentum take you.”

I try again, and this time, something clicks. My legs start to move a little more fluidly, my body relaxing just a fraction. A faint sound comes from the direction of the entrance, and my eyes snap toward it for a moment, my heart stopping. I can’t get the image of Rowan storming inside out of my head.

“You’re doing better than you think,” he says as he skates past, his voice low and smooth. “You’ve still got it.”

I blush again, trying to ignore how his praise makes my pulse race. I focus on the ice beneath me, pushing off with a little more strength this time. Each glide feels smoother and less forced, and the anxiety that’s been gripping me starts to loosen.

“See?” Damien says, skating close again, his hand brushing against mine. “Told you. It’s all in your head.”

I smile, despite myself, but then I remember what happened the last time I was here—the blood, the panic. I freeze again, my body stiffening as the memory crashes back into me.

Damien notices right away. “Hey.” His voice is softer now—no teasing, just reassurance. “Get out of your head. You’re doing great.”

I meet his eyes, and something in his gaze steadies me. He’s serious now, no smirks or playful glances. Just a steady, unwavering confidence that makes me want to believe him.

I take another breath and push off again, this time gliding more easily across the ice. Damien lets go of me entirely now, skating backward a few feet ahead, his eyes on me the whole time.

“Come to me,” he says, his voice low but commanding.

I hesitate for a second but then push off, my legs moving more naturally beneath me. Each stride feels better than the last. Damien watches me closely, his grin widening as I get closer.

“That’s it,” he says, his voice filled with quiet pride that makes me bite my cheeks to keep from smiling. “You’ve got this.”

By the time I reach him, my heart is pounding for more reasons than just the skating. I stop in front of him, breathing hard but exhilarated. Damien leans in, his eyes locked on mine.

“That was perfect,” he says softly, his tone genuine.

I blink at him, completely caught unaware. The warmth in his gaze makes my chest tighten, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.

“Thanks,” I murmur, my voice barely a whisper. He smiles, that cocky grin creeping back into place as he skates around me once more, teasingly close.

“At least three times a week, and you’ll be back where you left off in no time,” he says as if it’s already decided.

Forty minutes later, we’re heading back toward the parking lot. I’m still riding the high of the lesson when I spot a tall blonde leaning against a sleek black car, her eyes lighting up when she sees Damien.

“Damien,” she says, her voice smooth and dripping with confidence. “I saw your car and decided to stop by. I didn’t know you were practicing today.”

I stiffen immediately, insecurity slamming into me like a punch to the gut. She’s attractive, confident, and fit, with her hair styled perfectly. I tug at the sleeves of my hoodie, suddenly feeling insignificant next to her.

Is that his girlfriend?

To my surprise, Damien barely acknowledges her.

“We were just leaving,” he mutters, his tone flat like he’s irritated by her presence.

So, not his girlfriend.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you,” she purrs, stepping closer. “Thought you’d want to grab a drink.”

“I’m busy,” Damien replies and places a hand on my upper back. “Have a nice day,” he says, already moving past her and heading toward his car without even a glance back.

She looks taken aback but doesn’t push it. She shoots me a look like she’s only just noticed I’m standing there, and her expression shifts.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” she finally huffs, her cheeks a little red. Damien rolls his eyes before turning to face her.

“What more do you want me to say, Lexi? I have a game coming up. I’m busy. Enjoy your day.”

He’s got a game coming up yet he still agreed to give me skating lessons.

Damien opens the car door for me, completely ignoring Lexi’s lingering gaze. “Hop in, Red.”

“Thanks,” I mutter before he closes the door and circles around. It might seem mean, but I can’t help but smile.

By the time Damien pulls into my driveway, I’m still riding the high from the lesson. I’d been so scared to get back on the ice, but I did it. I actually did it. As I sit in the passenger seat, my heart still racing, I grin like an idiot.

“You did good today,” Damien says, breaking the silence. I glance over at him, expecting the usual teasing, but his tone is genuine.

“Yeah?” My voice comes out a little too eager, but I don’t care. For the first time in years, I’m not thinking about the accident. I’m thinking about how it felt to glide, even if it was shaky. “I mean, I was a little all over the place, but it felt good.”

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm.

“Muscle memory takes time. But it’s there. You’ll see it coming back the more you get out there.”

I nod, my excitement bubbling over. “I didn’t know if I could even get back on the ice at all.”

“I knew you could.” His voice is calm and steady, but there’s something behind it—confidence in me. And that encourages me even more.

I’m about to grab the skates he bought me from the floor when his hand covers mine. I freeze, my heart skipping a beat as his fingers press gently over mine.

“Leave them in the car,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth. “You’ll need them for the next time.”

“You want to skate with me again?” I ask, my eyes widening with genuine surprise. “But the game—”

“What, you got one lesson from me and don’t need me anymore?” He furrows his brows with a smile. “Harsh, Red.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I explain myself. “I just thought, with the big game around the corner and all…”

“Tomorrow. I’ll text you. Don’t be late.”

Right.

“Okay.” I swallow, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. But it’s impossible with him sitting so close, his hand still on mine, his thumb grazing the back of my hand.

I should move. I should pull away, thank him, and get out of the car, but I can’t seem to make my body cooperate. His eyes, those golden, dangerous eyes, are locked on mine, and it’s like he’s daring me to say something, to break the silence.

But I can’t. So, I do the only thing I can manage—I breathe. And when I finally do pull away, it’s with a quiet “Thanks” before trying to practically bolt out of the car like an absolute coward. Sarah’s going to be real proud of me for that one.

I grab the door handle, but before I can fully escape, I hear his voice one last time, low and teasing. “You’re very welcome.”

I nod, closing the door behind me, but I can still feel his eyes on me as I walk up the driveway. It takes everything in me not to look back.

A few hours later, I’m in the kitchen when I hear the front door open. Rowan and Ares stride in. There’s something about the way Rowan carries himself, always polished, always poised. Even now, after a long day, he looks like he could walk into a boardroom and command the room with just a few words. It’s always been like that.

I feel my body immediately stiffen, expecting him to have found out about the lesson Damien gave me.

He spots me in the kitchen, and instead of scowling, he smiles that warm, protective smile that always makes me feel like everything’s going to be okay.

He has no idea.

“Hey.” I wave a hand at him and Ares.

“Good evening,” Ares greets me calmly.

Rowan walks over to me and presses a gentle kiss on top of my head before squeezing my shoulders.

“I’m sorry I was gone all day,” he says as he starts massaging them. “Jesus, what got your muscles so tense?”

Shit. I take a deep breath and shrug, not trusting my voice to be steady. I’ve never been a good liar.

“We’re heading out to a club tonight,” he says, his tone gentle, but there’s an undercurrent of expectation there. “Would you like to come with us?” He finally releases me and steps back to lean against the kitchen island. I glance over at Ares, who’s uncorking a bottle of white wine.

I bite my lip. It’s not that I don’t want to go. It’s just… clubs. People. Loud music. It’s not exactly my scene.

Rowan must sense my hesitation because he steps closer, his gaze soft but intent. “You’ll be with me the whole time, Av. I’ll have someone drive you back here as soon as you want to leave, I promise.”

And damn, I love him for that. He always knows how to say the right thing and makes me feel like he’s looking out for me without pushing too hard.

I give him a small smile as I watch Ares fill a glass of wine.

“Thanks, Rowan. Really. But I think I’ll pass tonight and just have Sarah come over.”

He doesn’t push further; he just nods in understanding. “Alright. You can order anything you want and call me if you change your mind.”

I appreciate him more than I can say. He’s overprotective, sure, but he’s always tried to get me to step out of my comfort zone, even when I retreat back into it.

Ares slides the glass of wine over to me, and I look up at him, confused.

“While you wait for your friend,” he says in that impossibly deep voice as he puts the cork back on the bottle. He only poured one glass.

He opened the wine for me? He knew I’d say no to Rowan’s invitation. And that’s what unnerves me about Ares. If mind-reading is real, he definitely has it.

As Rowan heads upstairs to change, Ares lingers in the room. He’s quiet, like always, but his presence fills the space with an intensity that makes me want to disappear. He’s almost terrifying, but not in a bad way. More in the way that makes you second-guess everything you say around him because he’s so clearly one step ahead.

He heads to the pool area outside and lights a cigarette. Rowan would kill him if he smoked inside the house.

I look at the cigarette resting between his tattooed fingers. All three men are heavily tattooed, but Ares is the one with the most ink covering his skin, snaking up his neck and all the way down to his knuckles.

Before I can stare too long, the front door swings open, and Damien’s imposing silhouette fills the room. And just like that, the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface rushes back with full force. His eyes lock onto mine instantly, a gaze so intense it makes my skin tingle in ways I can’t fully understand.

“Hey, Red,” he greets, kicking the door shut behind him with his leg.

He’s wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tattoos. The veins on his forearms wind like snakes, curling up his arms. He looks more than good, and for a moment, I can’t do anything but stare.

He doesn’t say anything either; he just watches me.

I shift under his gaze, the flutter in my stomach growing impossible to ignore. “Hi,” I finally say, my voice coming out more breathless than I intended.

“You coming with us?” He flashes me that familiar, slow smile, his arms crossing over his chest with that effortless cool.

“Not tonight,” I murmur, glancing away before I lose my nerve completely.

“Looked like you were pre-gaming with that wine,” Damien notes, walking closer to where I’m sitting.

“Actually…” I glance over at Ares, about to explain that it was him who poured the wine. But Ares is watching Damien intensely, his eyes slightly narrowed. I change my mind. “Sarah’s coming over.”

“The girl from the airport, right?” he asks nonchalantly and, without asking, takes a sip of my wine.

I nod, not trusting my voice, as I watch his strong throat work to swallow the liquid. I look down, and my gaze flicks to the open journal in front of me, full of a list of books I want to buy since I have barely any here at Rowan’s place.

Damien sets the glass down and follows my gaze. Before I can stop him, he snatches it up.

“What’s this?” he asks, his eyes scanning the page, the teasing glint back in his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” I mutter, standing and reaching for it across the island, but of course, he holds it out of my reach, his smirk fully in place. I should have seen this coming.

“Book titles?” His eyebrow arches, amusement clear in his tone. “You’re making a list of books?”

“Give it back,” I plead, stepping closer and stretching my arms across the island. “It’s personal.”

Damien’s playfulness is beginning to feel like more than that. I’ve never gotten so much attention from him before, and I’m starting to feel things I shouldn’t, things I know he’s not feeling. Because that’s who Damien is; he likes to mess around, and there’s nothing more to it.

I expect him to make a sarcastic comment, to tease me mercilessly about the journal, but instead, his smirk fades into something softer. His gaze lingers on me, not mocking but curious. Almost gentle. For a moment, I can’t breathe.

Before I can make sense of the moment, Rowan’s voice breaks the spell. “Let’s go.”

I flinch, startled. Rowan’s standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking polished and composed as always, dressed perfectly for their night out. He walks toward us, his gaze sweeping over me.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Av,” Rowan says, stepping over to me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You and Sarah enjoy your night. If you need anything, call me, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod, offering a small smile. As much as he hovers, I know it’s only because he cares. His protectiveness, though overwhelming at times, is something I appreciate.

“Promise me you’ll call if you need anything,” Rowan adds, his voice soft.

“I will,” I say, letting some lightheartedness slip into my tone. “We’re just gonna binge-watch trash TV and eat pizza. Nothing too wild.”

“That’s more your speed,” Rowan chuckles, the sound warm and comforting. “Love you.” He presses a kiss to my forehead before turning back.

I glance at Damien, who still has my journal, and pause at the expression on his face. He’s lost in thought, as if he’s contemplating something unpleasant. But he quickly snaps out of it and looks at me.

Ares blurs past us, his boots thudding against the floor as he strides to the front door, but it’s not him I’m focused on.

Damien hands me back the journal, his fingers brushing mine, the contact sending an unexpected thrill through me. His lips curl into that infuriating smirk again.

“See you tomorrow at practice,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, just for me.

Before I can even think of what to say, he’s already turning to join Rowan and Ares at the door.

As they leave, Damien looks back one last time, his gaze locking onto mine, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his eyes before the door closes behind them. I huff out a breath.

This isn’t good.

During my short time here, Damien has managed to make me feel like I’m on the edge of something I shouldn’t be feeling. His playful teasing, the looks, the way he calls me ‘Red’—they all play with my nerves in ways I don’t want.

I know I’m reading too much into it. Guys like Damien don’t look at girls like me that way. He’s just messing around because it’s fun for him. After all, that’s who he is. Confident. Cocky. Playful. He's not into someone bookish and shy. It’s just nerves from being so out of my depth around someone like him. That’s all it is.

I can’t let myself think there’s anything more to it. Besides, I need him for these skating lessons. He’s the only one who can help me get back to where I was. I can’t let my thoughts drift any further into dangerous territory, even though, deep down, I’m afraid it might be a little too late.