Page 25 of The Rule Breaker (Colton U Playbook #1)

RYAN

T he rink is freezing, but I’m sweating my fucking balls off like it’s mid-July.

Practice is always brutal, but today? Feels like Coach is actively trying to kill us. My legs burn, my lungs are on fire, and my jersey sticks to my back as I push off, carving deep into the ice just as the whistle shrieks through the arena.

“Again!” Coach shouts from the bench.

I grit my teeth and dig in, lungs screaming as we run yet another breakout drill.

I set up at the blue line, stick on the ice, tracking the play as Logan carries the puck through the neutral zone.

He’s quick on his edges, shifty as hell, but I match him stride for stride, forcing him wide toward the boards.

The second he shifts, I drop my right knee and extend my stick—poke check, clean, puck gone. I sweep it off his blade and transition instantly, snapping a pass up to Austin, who’s streaking up the weak side.

“Nice fucking try.” I smirk, gliding backward as Logan groans.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, coasting past me. “Still faster than your slow ass.”

I snort, pivoting to shield the puck before threading a crisp pass back to Austin, who’s cutting toward the slot.

“Back door!” I call, reading the play before it happens.

Austin one-times it, but Nathan is already there, tracking the puck like a goddamn hawk. He drops into a perfect butterfly, glove snapping up like lightning, and robs him blind.

“Fucking hell,” Austin groans, throwing his head back as Nathan smirks behind his mask. “Take a goddamn break, man.”

“Maybe shoot better,” Nathan taunts, casually tossing the puck aside like it wasn’t the filthiest save of the day.

Logan skates by, patting Austin on the helmet. “He’s got a point, buddy.”

Austin shoves him. “Eat shit.”

Coach blows the whistle. “Switch it up! Power play unit, get on the ice!”

I skate to the center, glancing toward the boards—and freeze.

She’s here.

Of course she is. She’s at every practice, standing on the sidelines with her clipboard in hand, taking notes like it’s just another day at work. Which it is. She’s just doing her job, and I should respect that. Should stop fucking staring.

But knowing that doesn’t stop my body from reacting like a goddamn idiot every time she’s in the rink.

Because now all I can think about is her under me. Her back against the mattress, fingers curling in my hair. Her breathy little moans in my ear as I kissed my way down her?—

Something hard smacks against my shin guard.

“Fuck!”

I whip around, and Cole is staring at me, brow arched. “You’re staring,” he says flatly.

Shit.

“Staring at what?” I feign ignorance, even as my face burns hot.

Cole scoffs, shaking his head before skating off, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

I know I’m being obvious, but I can’t help it. Can’t stop looking at her—thinking about her—since that night. Since I met her, actually.

The thought of her going home with some other guy at the party the other night had my jaw clenched so fucking hard I thought it might snap.

I knew I wanted her. I just didn’t know how bad.

And now that I’ve had her—now that I know what she sounds like, tastes like, feels like—I can’t stop wanting her.

The whistle blows, snapping me out of it.

“Reed!” Coach’s voice cuts through the rink. “The fuck are you doing standing there like a statue? Get moving!”

I shake off the distraction, grip my stick, and push forward, skating hard through the drill. The ice is smooth beneath my skates, the air cold on my face, sweat dripping from my brow.

Logan passes me the puck, and I take it, pushing forward before sending a hard pass to Austin. His stick wobbles, and the shot flies wide.

“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head in frustration.

“Try opening your stance more,” a voice calls from the boards. Isabella’s.

Austin turns, his eyebrows furrowed, looking between her and Coach. “You sure?”

Coach doesn’t even glance up. “Listen to my daughter and do what she says.”

Austin stands taller, hand to his forehead in a salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

He straightens up, gets in position, and waits for the puck again. When it comes, he opens up, adjusts his angle, and fires. The puck slams into the top corner of the net.

“Well, what do you know,” Austin grins, tapping his stick on the ice. “Baby Hayes knows her stuff after all.”

I chuckle as Austin skates past me, my chest lighting up with pride.

Yeah, she fucking does.

I shake off my thoughts and drop into position as we start the power play drill. The puck drops, and I immediately battle Logan for possession, tying up his stick and kicking the puck to my blade.

I pivot, my eyes scanning for an opening, and fire a quick saucer pass to Austin.

“Back to me,” I call.

Austin sends it right back, and I drop low, loading my stick for a slap shot. The second the puck touches my blade, I rip it, feeling the force of the shot as it screams toward the net.

It pings off the crossbar with a crack.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

Nathan’s chuckle is audible even through his mask. “So close, buddy.”

I don’t waste a second, regrouping and shifting into position as Logan takes possession and starts a rush the other way. I backcheck hard, pushing my legs to the limit as I close the gap between us.

“Little slow today, Reed,” Logan taunts, a playful grin on his face.

“Little ugly today, Gray,” I shoot back, matching his pace.

His shoulders shake with a laugh, but I’m already focused, getting my stick in his lane. In one smooth motion, I poke-check the puck loose before he can get a shot off, sending it sliding toward our zone.

Coach nods from the bench. “Good stick, Reed.”

I catch his praise as my eyes flick to the boards. Isabella’s still there, clipboard in hand, watching. She’s biting her lip, brow furrowed in concentration, and damn, she looks so fucking cute.

I quickly look away, snapping back to the drill before I get distracted.

The rest of practice feels like it drags on forever. My legs burn like fire, but I power through, and every time I glance at the boards, her eyes are there, following me, studying every move I make.

I know I shouldn’t, but as I skate past her during a water break.

“Careful,” I tease. “Staring like that might get you in trouble.”

I take a slow sip from my bottle, watching her every movement, how her throat works as she swallows.

“Shut up,” she mutters, but the flush creeping up her neck tells me everything I need to know.

I chuckle, shoot her a wink, and skate back into the drill.

By the time Coach finally calls it, my jersey’s soaked, my arms feel like dead weight, and I’m one more drill away from collapsing on the ice.

“Hit the showers,” he barks. “Film in an hour!”

A collective groan echoes through the rink, but I don’t have the energy to join in.

“Fuck, I’m starving,” Austin grumbles, rubbing his stomach. “I need, like, five cheeseburgers.”

“That’s cute,” Logan shoots back. “I need six.”

“Jesus,” Nathan mutters. “You guys are actual garbage disposals.”

As they argue over which fast food joint has the best post-practice meal, I hang back, my eyes flicking over to the boards.

Isabella’s still there. Still watching me. Like I’m the only thing in the rink.

And damn if that doesn’t do something to me.

I skate toward her, feeling a smile slide onto my face. “Good watching out there.”

She raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small smile. “Good playing out there.”

I smirk, leaning in just enough to drop my voice. “Thanks. You did good with Austin. Any pointers for me?”

She watches me for a long moment, her gaze lingering before her tongue darts out to wet her lips, just the tiniest hint of a challenge in her eyes. “You could’ve hit that one-timer.”

“Yeah?” I step closer, feeling the heat between us. “What else?”

She tilts her head slightly, lips twitching into a small grin. “You were a little distracted on the ice.”

“Hmm,” I nod slowly. “I think we both know the reason why.”

Her eyes flicker. She licks her lips again, and I barely resist the urge to grab her right here and press her against the boards. Fuck, I want to taste those pretty lips again.

“Reed!”

Coach’s voice cuts through the air, pulling me back to reality.

I step back, my heart pounding, like a guilty fucking teenager caught in the act.

“Stop distracting my daughter and get the fuck in the locker room.”

“Right. Sorry.” I throw Isabella a grin. “Was just telling your daughter she did a great job. Really amazing. Best practice ever.”

We both know I’m not talking about hockey.

Her lips curve into a knowing smile, and she rolls her eyes, shaking her head. I chuckle, finally turning toward the locker room, but not without one last glance at her—just to see if she’s watching me walk away.

The second I step in, music blasts through the room, vibrating the walls, like always.

“Shotgun on the showers!” Aiden yells, yanking his jersey off.

“There’s like five showers, man, calm down,” Logan retorts, rolling his eyes.

I shake my head, peeling off my own jersey. The undershirt sticks to my chest, soaked from sweat, and I rip it off, wincing as the cold air hits my skin.

“Well, well, well. Reed finally got some.”

I frown, glancing up to see Logan smirking at me, his eyes locked onto my neck.

Nathan strolls by, takes one look at me, and snorts. “Holy shit.”

I turn to the mirror, my eyes widening when I see what they’re talking about.

Shit.

A massive, dark, impossible-to-miss hickey.

Logan whistles. “Damn. Someone had fun.”

Nathan just smirks. “Hope she was hot.”

She was . She also happened to be your sister.

Austin bursts into laughter, taking a few steps closer. “Holy shit, Reed, did you get attacked by a vampire?” And of course, he’s completely fucking naked.

“Jesus,” I mutter, stepping back and holding my hand up as if that will protect me. “Put your dick away if you’re gonna stand that close to me.”

He just laughs, slipping his boxers on with zero fucks given. “Congrats on ending the dry spell. Who was the lucky girl?”

“Or guy,” Logan adds, wiggling his brows.

Nathan nearly chokes on his water.

I arch a brow. “Not a guy.”

“So, it was a girl?” Austin grins, eyes glowing with curiosity. “Who?”

Shit .

“Yeah, I’m not fucking talking about this with you guys.”

“Aww, come on,” Austin groans. “I’ve been rooting for you to get laid for months.”

“Was it Brenna?” Logan asks. “She was all over you at the party last week.”

I have no fucking clue who Brenna is. But I can’t exactly admit that, can I?

I glance at Cole. He’s leaning against the locker, chewing his gum slowly, eyes flicking between me and the rest of the room.

“Yeah,” I lie, swallowing hard. “It was… Brenda.”

“Brenna,” Austin corrects, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Right. Sure. Her.”

Nathan chuckles from across the room, his voice dripping with amusement. “Damn, she really marked you up. Shouldn’t you remember her name?”

I let out a laugh that’s way too forced, feeling it scrape at my chest. Jesus.

My face burns, and I force my hand through my hair, pretending like I’m unaffected. But deep down, I’m spiraling.

If only they knew who actually gave me that hickey. If only they knew I’d left my marks all over her perfect tits, leaving my fucking scent on her skin.

My best friend. My teammate. A guy I consider like a brother. And I betrayed him.

I fucked his little sister.

And goddamn it, I want to do it again. Because deep down, no matter how many times we agreed it was a one-time thing.

Once will never be enough.