Chapter Two

~Quinn~

“You can do this, Kade!” I scream from the stands, my voice almost lost in the rising boos echoing around the icy arena. The game has been brutal from the start, the opposing team dominating every play. Tensions were already high even before the puck dropped. One of Kingsford's players got into a nasty fight during warm-ups and got benched immediately. 

I’m pretty sure he sabotaged the team’s momentum, and now the whole audience is turning on them. At least Kade was the one who stepped in and broke up that initial scrap, everyone saw that.

It’s only been a week since I moved into my dorm here at Kingsford, and honestly, I’ve loved every second. Mornings walking to class with a cheap coffee in hand, rainy nights spent watching old movies like Casablanca, lazy afternoons listening to Sombr playlists while I worked on my list. My list. So far, I’ve got twelve extra things written down:

2. Go to Vegas with Kade Salvatore and have my first kiss.

3. Attend a legendary Kingsford party.

4. Pull an all-nighter for fun.

5. Get a tattoo.

6. Watch a local band play live.

7. Celebrate all my birthdays—like, at least a hundred of them.

8. Skate one last time just for me, no competition, no judges.

9. Watch Princess Diaries with Kade.

10. Watch Casablanca with Mom.

11. Give most of my money to charity but still spend a little stupidly.

12. Tell someone my biggest secret and do something completely reckless.

13. Do something crazy in public.

I’ve decided to break it down—one month, one list. Four months, four lists. It feels more manageable that way. My plans are definitely gonna change. I know it.

“Shit,” I curse under my breath as the buzzer blares again. The other team scores. Again. It’s five to two now. Not good. I watch Kade punch the air in frustration before skating hard toward the bench. He snatches a water bottle from one of the medics during the timeout, his expression dark.

Then the coach signals toward the player who started it all, the guy who got benched after that warm-up fight. I squint to see the name of his jersey "Blackwood". He grabs his stick and steps back onto the ice like he owns it.

“Perfect timing, folks! Ace Blackwood is back in the game,” the announcer says, almost laughing. The crowd goes wild. Who is this guy? The name Blackwood sounds familiar… I think my mom mentioned them at some charity gala we had to go to. One of the many not-fun perks of being the daughter of a famous hockey coach.

My thoughts cut off abruptly when a stray puck slams into the protective glass right near our section. I flinch.

And then Ace is everywhere. Skating like lightning, weaving through defenders like they’re standing still. He doesn’t pass much, total puck hog. Totally stealing Kade’s spotlight. But I can’t look away. In what feels like seconds, he single-handedly ties the game. Five to five. Then he scores again. And again. The horn blares. The game is over.

“Kingsford wins the championship!” The arena erupts. People are screaming, chanting his name. “Ace! Ace! Ace!” This is… new. Kade’s always been the star.

Ace pulls off his helmet. And wow. He’s undeniably good-looking, in a dangerous kind of way. Piercings gleam on his eyebrow and lip. He smirks, grabs the championship cup, and hoists it over his head like he’s won everything.

That’s when Kade skates up behind him. He says something—no one can hear what. But in a split second, Ace slams the metal cup right into Kade’s head. Kade drops. Ace is on him instantly, throwing punch after punch. Not celebration. Anger. Pure rage.

He’s going to kill him.

Oh my goodness, he’s actually going to kill him.

My chance with Kade—ruined, maybe forever. I’m halfway out of my seat, ready to sprint down there, but security gets there first. They yank Ace off, dragging him away as he shouts, “Fuck you, Salvatore!”

"No, fuck you Blackwood!” I scream. Surprisingly he turns, searching for whoever said it. I go weak in the knees of how intense his blue eyes was when he found mine, but he flips the bird on me and skates away. Piece of shit. It didn't matter with him now, I had to make sure that Kade was okay but the sight isn't good either.

Kade isn’t moving. Not even a little. My chest tightens as the meds rush out, surrounding him, rolling a stretcher onto the ice. They wheel him away, toward the school clinic, and he still isn’t waking up.

How can someone be that heartless?

***

The walk into the clinic wasn't easy. My stomach was a tight knot of nerves, and I honestly expected to see a crowd of Kade's fans gathered outside, supporting him like we always did back in high school whenever he got hurt. But there's no one. The hallway is empty and quiet, which feels odd and a little wrong. He just won a championship and got knocked out cold, and no one even bothered to come check on him? I walked up to the reception desk, my voice a little shaky as I stated that I was an old high school friend who just wanted to see if he was okay. After a quick check, the nurse let me in.

He's sleeping on the bed when I walk into his private ward, and the sight of him literally makes my breath catch. He's so breathtaking. His lips are parted slightly as he takes soft, even breaths, and his chestnut brown hair is a messy mix of curls that I would absolutely kill to run my fingers through. My brows furrow immediately at the sight of the white bandage wrapped around his head, coupled with the darkening cuts on his forehead and the side of his face. All thanks to that Blackwood devil.

I settle into the chair someone left next to his bed, just watching him for a long moment. He turns a little in his sleep, and the thin hospital covers drag down from his huge body. I decide to lean forward and help him adjust it, my hand just brushing the blanket when his own hand suddenly grabs mine. His grip is strong, and he pulls me closer to him before I can even process what's happening.

Kade's eyes flicker open, meeting mine. His gaze isn't intense or scary like Ace's was; it's softer, almost welcoming, even through the haze of painkillers.

“Who are you?” His voice is still husky from sleep, but it gives me immediate goosebumps, especially as he pulls my captured hand to rest against his chest. I can feel the steady, strong beat of his heart right through my palm.

“I...umm... I'm Quinn.. Quinn Sinclair,” I manage to stammer out, my heart hammering so loud I'm sure he can hear it.

“From Wellsprings Academy?” He raised a brow, his eyes focusing a bit more. He knows me. He recognizes my name. He actually remembers me from our high school.

“Y..yes..” is all I can get out.

He nods slowly, like that makes perfect sense, and then his eyes drift closed again. For a second I panic, thinking he might have passed out or worse, but the strong, steady raving of his heart against my palm proves me wrong. He's just asleep. We stay like that for what feels like at least an hour, him holding my hand to his chest, me frozen in the chair, until I eventually give in to my own exhaustion and fall asleep right there. I wake up with a start when I feel him stir, a yawn cracking my jaw.

“Hey,” He greets me gently, his voice clearer now.

Shit. I shouldn't have fallen asleep. I probably have drool on my chin, looking like someone spat on me, but the easy smile on his face when I stretch my stiff back tells me otherwise. He doesn't seem to mind.

“Hey, are you okay now?” I ask as he finally lets go of my hand. My chest hurts with the sudden loss of contact, but I hide it quickly, hoping my face doesn't show anything.

“Yes,” He breathes out, shifting to sit up a little straighter. “I'm sorry for, you know....” He gestures vaguely at my hand, which still tingles from his touch. “It felt comforting to hold. Instinct, I guess.”

I could see stars. Not just little sparkles, but the kind of big, cartoonish, fairy-tale princess dancing unicorn stars. My entire world just got brighter.

“It's not a problem... really,” My cheeks are on fire, my face is hot, and I can't even seem to make a proper sentence. I sound like an idiot.

“Okay,” He clicked his tongue, wincing slightly at the movement. “It's nice that you got into Kingsford, only a few of the guys back then made it. You must be really smart. What's your major?”

“Psychology,” I say, my brain scrambling to keep up with the fact that we are actually having a conversation. We're bonding... and it's happening fast.

“You're really smart.” He states it like a simple fact. He stares at the ceiling for a second like he's trying to recall something, and then he finds the words. His voice is quiet but clear. “With every score, every victory, every loss, my heart is with you Kade Salvatore... always and forever.”

My blood froze solid in my veins. He knows. "You...you read those letters?” My voice is a squeak of pure mortification.

“I don't use the mailbox often not until I started getting your letters,” he says with a small, lopsided grin. “I mean..who still writes physical letters? But yours have been... intriguing. And you send them after every game, too. I look forward to them. I'm grateful you showed up after what happened back there... it's great to have someone believe in you that much.” He smiles, a real, genuine smile aimed right at me. "But you're always so shy in person, running off before I can even speak to you.”

I just want to jump on him and hug him, I am so filled with relief and joy, but my phone suddenly blares with the most infuriating ring tone. It's Donna, the maid my mom insisted I bring to college. Of course. I didn't know how to cook, but my mother still wanted me to have homemade meals. Donna dropped them off on weekends with labels of the dates on them to guide me. She's the best, but her timing is the worst. She is actively ruining my shot with Kade.

“I'm sorry, I have to take this," I smile at him nervously, and he just nods, understanding.

“Where have you been, Princess? It's almost 10pm,” She frowns through the phone, her voice full of worry.

“Donna, I'll call you back. I'm with Kade,” I whisper-hiss into the receiver.

A loud squeal follows. “Like Salvatore?”

“Yes! The key is under the mat,” I add quickly before ending the call, my face probably bright red.

“It's getting late...” Kade says, watching me put my phone away. “Do you still live on campus?”

“Yes,” I sighed, already mourning the end of this perfect, unexpected moment.

“Come on, I'll drop you off. It's not safe to walk back alone this late.”

I didn't dare say no. I just nodded like a robot with a broken switch as he carefully gets up from the bed, moving a little stiffly but determined.

This was it. My dream was finally coming true.