five

MAYA

Before I could even process the command, his strong arms banded around my waist. 

He yanked me forward. My chest hit his solid torso, knocking the breath from my lungs. My fingers instinctively curled into the thick fabric of his jersey.

His mouth captured mine.

Shock waves rattled my bones. This was no gentle peck for the cameras. 

Holy fuck!

Davies kissed like he played hockey—aggressive, precise, demanding. His lips molded against mine with a fierce heat that melted the chill of the arena. My knees threatened to buckle under the sheer force of his touch. I tightened my grip on his collar to stay standing. Nobody had ever held me this way. Nathan always grabbed me like an afterthought, a quick, sloppy squeeze before rushing off to hang with his boys.

Davies held me like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

One of his large hands slid upward, mapping the curve of my spine. His fingers tangled deep in my hair at the nape of my neck. He tilted my head back, adjusting the angle to gain better access. The rough texture of his taped hockey stick digging into my hip contrasted with the soft, wet heat of his mouth. He tasted of wintergreen gum, sweat, and raw adrenaline.

A soft moan tore from my throat. I could not stop it.

Hearing that sound flipped a dangerous switch inside him. His tongue swept along my bottom lip, coaxing my mouth open. I yielded on a ragged sigh. He took full advantage. The kiss deepened into something wild and feral. We moved in perfect sync, a chaotic, messy dance. My hands slid up his thick neck, fingers burying into his damp hair. The rest of the world faded into static.

“Davies,” I breathed out, groaning his name into his mouth.

He growled low in his chest, pulling me closer. He erased every single inch of space between our bodies. His thumb stroked my jawline in a rhythmic motion. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it ached. This was supposed to be a fake contract. A business transaction for my mother’s medical bills. But my body rejected that logic. The chemistry radiating between us felt magnetic, toxic, and dangerously addictive.

It felt like something I might want to be doing more often.

“What the fuck! Get your hands off her!”

The raging scream ripped through the arena, shattering the moment into a million jagged pieces.

We broke apart. My chest heaved as I gasped for oxygen. My lips felt swollen, tingling from the friction of his stubble. Davies kept his arm anchored firmly around my waist, keeping me tucked into his side. He turned his head slowly, wearing a lazy, satisfied smirk.

Standing ten feet away was Nathan.

His face was a blotchy shade of crimson. Veins bulged on his thick neck like ropes. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides, knuckles turning white. The rest of the Dogfang team stopped their drills. Westbridge players paused on the ice, leaning over the boards to watch. The entire arena fell into a thick, suffocating silence.

Whispers started breaking out in the bleachers. Students pulled out their devices.

“Bro is tweaking,” someone mumbled from the stands.

“Main character energy right there,” another girl whispered, pointing her phone at us.

“Knock it off, Davies, or I will beat the shit out of both of you right now!” Nathan spat, taking a heavy step forward. His eyes darted between us, wide with disbelief and pure fury.

Seeing him act like a wounded puppy sent a jolt of pure anger through my veins. Just yesterday, he was groaning my best friend's name in a locker room. Now he wanted to play the territorial boyfriend?

One of Nathan’s teammates, a burly guy named Chad, stepped up and put a calming hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Yo, man, chill out. Coach is gonna see and flip.”

“Shut up, Chad!” Nathan shoved his teammate backward hard enough to make the guy stumble and hit the boards. “Don't tell me to chill! This arrogant rookie is putting his hands on my girl!”

“Correction,” Davies said. His voice echoed, calm and deep, lacking any hint of fear. “My girl.”

Nathan let out a guttural yell. He lunged forward, closing the distance in three long strides.

Without missing a beat, I reached into my purse. My fingers wrapped around the cold metal of my phone. I whipped it out, unlocked the screen, and launched the camera app. With a quick tap, the red recording dot blinked to life.

I shoved the lens right in his direction, keeping my arm steady.

“Touch me,” I challenged. My voice rang out loud and clear. “I dare you, Nathan. Come on. Put your hands on me. Put your hands on him. Let’s catch you in 4K so the whole campus can see the Dogfang captain catch an assault charge. Give the blogs something real to post.”

Nathan hit an invisible wall. His sneakers screeched on the rubber matting just inches from my phone. His chest heaved with ragged breaths. The red light of my camera flashed in his wild, bloodshot eyes. He knew I was not bluffing. One viral video of him throwing a punch would strip him of his captain title faster than a lost game. His precious hockey career would burn to the ground.

“You’re recording this?” Nathan scoffed, though his voice cracked under the pressure. “You think you’re so savage now? Acting like some bad bitch because you got a new toy?”

“I think I’m protecting myself from a toxic manipulator,” I replied, holding the phone high. “Back up.”

He stood his ground, his jaw clenching so tight I heard his teeth grind together. A muscle ticked furiously near his temple. He nodded slowly, a dark, menacing gesture that sent a cold shiver down my spine.

Instead of backing away, Nathan shifted his focus. He squared up to Davies. The two boys were almost identical in height, but Davies carried a more imposing frame. The tension crackled between them, thick enough to choke on. The air felt charged, like a storm about to break.

Davies did not flinch. He squared right back. He dropped his hand from my waist and took a deliberate step in front of me, using his body as a shield. A cocky grin spread across his handsome face. He looked amused by the whole ordeal. Bored, even.

“Got a problem, Nate?” Davies taunted, tilting his head to the side.

“You think this is a game?” Nathan hissed, spit flying from his lips. “You think you can just swoop in and take what’s mine? I will end you on that ice tomorrow. And off the ice? I’m going to make your life a living hell. You won't know what hit you.”

“Big words,” Davies chuckled, sliding his hands casually into his pockets. “Can't wait to see you try, man.”

Nathan glared at him for another agonizing second before shifting his furious gaze back to me. The hot rage in his eyes morphed into something colder. Something calculated, bitter, and cruel.

“You need to get back to your senses, Maya,” Nathan warned, his tone dropping to a dangerous, gravelly whisper. “Drop this pathetic act right now. Stop embarrassing yourself and come back to me.”

“I would rather sleep on the street,” I shot back, keeping the camera pointed directly at his face. “We are done.”

Nathan’s face twisted into an ugly, hateful sneer. “Fine. Have it your way. But mark my words. I am going to make you suffer for this. I will ruin this little fantasy of yours until you hate him. Until you are on your knees crying, wishing you never knew me.”