Chapter 1
The chill of the rink seeped through Alex Carter’s pads, but it wasn’t the cold that had his pulse racing. It was game night, and the Harbor City Blades were locked in a brutal battle against their rivals, the Riverton Wolves. The crowd’s roar echoed off the rafters, a familiar symphony of cheers and jeers that usually faded into the background once the puck hit the ice.
But tonight felt different.
Alex tightened his grip on his stick as he skated into the face-off circle, eyes narrowing beneath his helmet. The Wolves were ahead by one, and there were only two minutes left on the clock. He could feel the tension humming in his veins, that familiar mix of adrenaline and stubborn determination.
Across from him, the Riverton center was already in position, his cocky grin as irritating as ever. The referee’s whistle pierced the air, and in an instant, the puck dropped.
Sticks clashed, blades tore across the ice, and Alex lunged forward, muscles straining. The puck ricocheted off a skate, bouncing wildly toward the boards. Without thinking, Alex bolted after it, his focus razor-sharp—until his slapshot went wide, the puck sailing over the glass and into the crowd.
The sudden thunk followed by a sharp gasp from the stands snapped him out of his tunnel vision.
The arena seemed to hold its breath.
Alex’s gaze shot to where the puck had flown, his heart skipping as he saw a woman clutching the side of her head, her friend frantically waving down arena staff. She wasn’t bleeding, but her face was twisted in pain, and Alex’s stomach dropped.
Shit.
Before he knew it, he was skating toward the bench, ignoring the coach’s shouts as he vaulted over the barrier and hurried toward the stands. Fans parted as security made space, but Alex barely noticed. His eyes were locked on her.
She was sitting upright now, her hand still pressed to her temple, brown hair spilling out from under a knit hat. Her friend was fussing over her, but the woman waved her off, clearly annoyed. When her eyes lifted—and locked onto his—Alex felt something he couldn’t quite explain.
Those eyes. Sharp, defiant, like she wasn’t about to let a little flying puck ruin her night.
“You okay?” he asked, slightly out of breath, as he reached her row.
She blinked, seemingly surprised to see him standing there. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though her wince betrayed her.
Alex raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You sure? That puck had some heat on it.”
Her lips curved into a faint, sarcastic smile. “Yeah, thanks for that. I definitely needed a souvenir to the head.”
Despite the situation, Alex chuckled. “Glad I could help.”
Before she could retort, an arena medic appeared, gently nudging Alex aside to check her over. She shot Alex one last glance—equal parts annoyance and curiosity—before focusing on the medic’s questions. Alex hovered for a moment, unsure why he felt the need to stay.
“Carter!” his coach barked from the bench, yanking him back to reality.
With a reluctant sigh, Alex jogged back to the ice, but his mind wasn’t on the game anymore. The final minutes blurred together, and when the buzzer sounded, signaling their loss, he hardly felt the usual sting of defeat.
Back in the locker room, as his teammates grumbled about missed shots and bad calls, Alex found himself staring at his gear, his thoughts drifting back together.
Who was she?
And why couldn’t he shake the feeling that tonight’s game had just been the start of something far more complicated than a rivalry on the ice?
