Chapter 4

This double life went on for a whole semester.

The weather slowly warmed up, but the rink was still as cold as an icebox.

I sat on a plastic chair by the boards, mending a jersey that had come apart at the seam.

Blake sent the puck flying off his stick, and it shot straight at my head.

"Quinn, look out!" Blake shouted.

I had no time to react. All I could do was shut my eyes and cover my head.

The pain I braced for never came.

A gust of wind swept past, and Nathan's tall frame blocked me. He caught the blazing-fast puck in his hand with a low grunt.

I opened my eyes and saw a spot of red seeping from the edge of his glove.

"Are you okay?" I shot to my feet, my voice shaking.

Nathan tossed the puck back onto the ice and turned to glare at me.

"Are you stupid? You don't know how to duck? If I hadn't caught that, you'd be in the hospital with a concussion right now!"

His tone was sharp, but his brows were tightly knit and there was a panic in his eyes he couldn't hide.

"I... I didn't react in time." I lowered my head, and from the fright my eyes stung.

And sure, he'd been fierce about it.

But he'd genuinely done everything he could to protect me.

At home, even if my little brother smashed a rock on my head, my mom would only yell at me for not dodging.

Nathan looked at my reddened eyes and raked a hand through his hair in agitation.

He suddenly pulled off his oversized team jacket and dropped it right over my head.

"It's freezing and you're sitting there shaking like a leaf. Put it on. If you get sick from the cold, who's going to do our chores?"

I poked my head out of the jacket, but he'd already skated off.

That night, the IceTyrant account got a message from Nathan.

"Master, I played hero and saved a damsel today. Boosted team unity again! But why was that girl so cold? Downright rude! What on earth do women even think about?"

I was about to reply, "She's thinking about how to poison you."

Then Nathan had a sudden epiphany. "I get it, she's still scared of me. I need to be gentler, right, Master?"

I'd meant to type out that she wasn't scared at all...

But honestly, who wouldn't want to see a gentle Nathan?

After that, our relationship in real life turned deeply bizarre.

On the surface, Nathan still strutted around like he owned the school, bossing me around to do this and that.

But he'd "accidentally" leave the team's extra catered meals on my desk, claiming "even a dog wouldn't eat this."

I received a jar of imported medicated hand cream for my cracked and frostnipped hands the next day, its label peeled off, which Nathan said was junk Blake didn't want.

But I'd seen with my own eyes that he'd spent half an hour picking it out at the pharmacy the day before.

In this secret, warped relationship, I slowly began to panic.

Something was wrong. Why did my heart stutter every time I saw him?

Something was seriously wrong!

I started deliberately avoiding him.

A month before the tournament, the team went into closed-door training.

During the lunch break, I hid in the empty locker room and pulled out my tactics notebook, furiously reworking the positioning charts for the upcoming game.

I was so tired I actually fell asleep facedown on the table.

When I woke up, a familiar jacket was draped over me, and my tactics notebook was gone.

Cold sweat broke out all over me, and I bolted from the locker room.

At the end of the hallway, Tiffany was holding my notebook, blocking Nathan as he came out of the restroom.

"Nathan, actually... I never told you, but I'm the one behind that account."

Hiding around the corner, I stopped breathing.

Nathan looked at the notebook in her hands, filled with tactical diagrams in a delicate hand.

"You're... IceTyrant?" There was a seriousness in Nathan's voice, unreadable, just not very pleased.

How could that be.

This was the Master he cared about most.

Tiffany blushed and put on a shy, bashful look. "Mm... I was afraid you'd think a girl like me doesn't understand hockey, so I never dared admit it."

That notebook was packed with all my tactical workups, exactly the same as the tactics IceTyrant had given Nathan.

She must have snuck a look inside while I was asleep.

I bit my lip bloody, forcing down the urge to rush out and expose her.

I didn't want...

I didn't want Nathan to see me as a con artist who'd been playing him for a fool.

Nathan didn't take the notebook. He stared hard at Tiffany.