Rinkside Secrets

The first mistake I made tonight? Walking into the rink.

The second? Stopping to watch.

In my defense, I wasn't in school at 7 pm to stalk the team captain like some desperate fangirl. I was only there to grab my dad’s forgotten clipboard from his office and drop it off at home since it was my fault it was left behind either way.

But the moment I walked through the doors, the sight stopped me dead in my tracks.

Jaxon Hayes was on the ice, alone, shirtless, and moving like he owned the damn world. Steam rose off his skin in the cold air, his muscles flexing as he glided effortlessly, hockey stick in hand, eyes locked on the net like it had personally offended him. The arena was empty except for the sound of skates cutting into the ice and the sharp crack of the puck hitting the boards.

I should have just kept walking. Grabbed the clipboard and left. But no, my dumb brain decided to stay...watch him.

The way this guy moved was...hypnotizing.

Big mistake. Because Jaxon noticed.

He didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned into it—his movements getting showier, the smirk on his face growing cockier. A spin, a quick shot, a glance in my direction.

I rolled my eyes. Predictable.

Then, just as I turned away, he fired another shot, and—

The puck slammed against the boards and ricocheted straight toward me.

I yelped and jumped back on instinct, but the soles of my boots betrayed me. The next thing I knew, my foot skidded, my arms flailed, and I landed flat on my ass with a very loud, very ungraceful “oof.”

Silence filled the air.

Then, laughter. Deep, rich, and entirely too entertained.

I glared up just as Jaxon skated over, stopping right in front of me with his signature smirk firmly in place. He planted his stick against the ice, resting his weight on it like he had all the time in the world.

“Didn’t know I had an audience,” he drawled, eyes scanning me from head to toe.

“You didn’t,” I muttered, scrambling to my feet and brushing imaginary dust off my jeans. “I was just passing through.”

His gaze flicked to my jeans, then back to my face. “Sure you were.”

I crossed my arms. “Not everything is about you, Hayes.”

Jaxon chuckled, slow and knowing. “You’re blushing.”

I scoffed. “It’s cold.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe put a damn shirt on and stop traumatizing people.”

He grinned. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

I opened my mouth to fire back something equally scathing, but before I could, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make my stomach flip.

“You sure you weren’t watching?”

My throat went dry. Because I had been.

Damn it.

I forced myself to scoff, roll my eyes, and pivot toward the hallway. “In your dreams, Hayes.”

His chuckle followed me as I walked away, and I could feel his gaze pierce through my back as I did.

And I hated that I felt it.

I practically sprinted through the empty hallway, my boots clicking against the tiles as I willed away the heat in my cheeks.

It’s the cold, not him. It’s the cold, not him.

I didn’t know why I was suddenly so hyperaware of Jaxon’s voice still echoing in my head. The way he looked at me, amused and challenging, like he had me all figured out. Like I was predictable.

Annoying.

When I finally reached my dad’s office, I flicked on the light, grabbed a water bottle from his mini-fridge, and exhaled sharply. I need to chill.

Except, apparently, the universe had other plans.

Just as I opened the door to leave, Jaxon was there.

Leaning against the opposite wall like he owned the damn place, hockey stick resting against his shoulder, like he’d been waiting. The same cocky smirk still plastered on his face.

I frowned. “You following me now?”

“Just making sure you don’t trip over another invisible object on your way out.”

I groaned, moving past him, but he fell into step beside me, effortlessly keeping pace. “Why are you still here?” I asked. “Thought you’d be too busy flexing in the mirror.”

“Ouch.” He pressed a hand to his chest mockingly. “That hurt, Nova.”

“You’ll live.”

“Good to know you care.”

I shot him a look. “I don’t.”

He smirked but didn’t reply. Instead, he nudged my shoulder slightly with his. Casual. Too casual.

I scowled. “Can you not?”

“What? This?” Another nudge, a bit firmer this time, making me stumble slightly to the side.

Asshole.

“Jaxon.”

“Nova.”

I huffed. “You’re a menace.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that one. Instead, I quickened my pace, heading for the main exit. But before I could push the door open, I felt a strong grip wrap around my wrist, yanking me back.

Not harshly, but firmly. Enough to make my breath hitch.

I turned sharply. “What the—”

Then, his lips landed on mine.

A kiss that wasn’t soft or sweet or careful. It was dominance.

Hot, claiming, frustratingly good.

My brain short-circuited. My body betrayed me, melting before I could decide whether I wanted to shove him away or pull him closer.

When he finally pulled back, his lips curved into a smirk against mine, his voice lower than before. “Still think I’m flexing for nothing?”