Snowbound Rivals

Noah’s Pov

There were only two kinds of games against Mason Blake.

The ones that ended with someone bleeding.

And the ones that ended with the media pretending they were disappointed nobody had thrown a punch.

Tonight had fallen somewhere in the middle.

The final buzzer had sounded nearly twenty minutes ago, but the noise inside the arena hadn’t faded. Fans were still chanting, reporters were crowding the tunnels, and every sports channel in the country was already replaying the moment Mason and I slammed each other into the boards during the third period.

Neither of us had started the collision. Neither of us had backed down either.

I pulled my helmet off as I walked into the locker room, tossing it onto the wooden bench before running a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. The room smelled of ice, tape, and victory.

We had won. Barely.

Yet nobody would remember the score by tomorrow morning. They would only remember another chapter in the never-ending rivalry between Noah Steele and Mason Blake.

“You look like you’re about to punch somebody,” my teammate Liam Carter said, dropping onto the bench across from me.

“I already hit enough people tonight.”

He laughed, pulling off one of his skates. “Reporters are waiting outside. Dying to ask you about Blake.”

“They always are, and no, I’m not giving them another headline.”

Liam shook his head, amused. “I’ve never met two people who enjoy making each other miserable as much as you and Mason.”

“We don’t enjoy it.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Before I could answer, Coach Reynolds walked in carrying a tablet. “Good game, gentlemen.” His eyes settled on me. “Steele. My office.”

The locker room erupted with exaggerated groans. “Ooh,” Liam teased. “Coach is finally trading you.”

A few minutes later, I knocked on Coach Reynolds’ office door.

“Come in.”

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

Coach leaned back, arms folded. “You know why I asked you here?”

“I’m assuming this is about Blake.”

“When isn’t it?” He sighed and slid a folder across the desk.

I glanced down. Winter Hearts Charity Weekend.

“The organization confirmed your attendance.”

“I already agreed.”

“Mason Blake’s organization accepted the invitation too.” He hesitated. “I’d like one weekend where I don’t have to answer phone calls about two hockey captains embarrassing themselves.”

“I’ll be professional.”

“I sincerely hope so.” I stood to leave.

Coach studied me for a moment. “Don’t let the past ruin the future.”

My smile disappeared. He didn’t need to explain what he meant. He was talking about Tyler.

Almost nobody mentioned that name anymore. The league certainly didn’t. The media had buried the story years ago. Fans barely remembered it.

But I remembered. Every single day.

“I’ll see you Monday, Coach.”

He simply nodded. When I left his office, the familiar weight settled onto my shoulders again. Some memories refused to stay in the past.

Outside the arena, dozens of reporters waited behind the barricades. The moment they spotted me, microphones appeared from every direction, questions flying faster than I could answer them.

I stopped walking. “The game was competitive. It was hockey.”

“Do you think the rivalry has become personal?”

I looked directly at the reporter. “It became personal years ago.”

The crowd erupted with more questions. I kept walking. My driver opened the SUV door before anyone else could stop me. The moment I climbed inside, silence replaced the chaos outside.

My agent, Ethan Brooks, was already sitting in the passenger seat. “You gave them just enough.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“You never are.” He turned around with his tablet in hand. “You’re trending. The clip of you and Mason has already hit five million views.”

I laughed without humor. “The internet works fast.”

“It loves conflict even more.”

I leaned my head against the window as the city lights blurred together. Conflict. That seemed to be the only thing people associated with my name anymore. Nobody asked about the charity work, or the foundation I’d started for underprivileged kids, or the scholarships we funded every year. They wanted rivalry. Anger. Drama.

The truth was far less entertaining. Hatred became exhausting after enough years passed. Sometimes I couldn’t even remember what it felt like not to hate Mason Blake.

Then, without warning, another memory forced its way into my mind.

The summer camp. The freezing air inside the old training arena. Tyler laughing after practice. Mason standing beside him. The three of us talking about the future like nothing bad could ever happen. For a while, we had been friends. Real friends. We had believed we’d all play professionally together one day.

Instead, only two of us made it. The third never left that camp alive.

I shut my eyes, not tonight. I wasn’t doing this tonight.

“You okay?” Ethan’s voice pulled me back.

“I’m fine.”

He clearly didn’t believe me, but he let it go.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. A message from the charity organizers: due to worsening weather forecasts, all guests were encouraged to arrive a day early. Heavy snowfall was expected throughout the mountain region that weekend.

I read it twice before replying that I would leave first thing in the morning.

Ethan glanced over. “Everything alright?”

“They’re expecting a snowstorm.”

“You’re still going?”

“I gave them my word.”

The SUV stopped outside my building. As I stepped onto the sidewalk, someone called my name.

“Noah.”

I turned. Standing near the entrance was a woman I recognized immediately.

Sophia Blake. She was dressed in a navy coat, her dark hair moving gently in the cold evening breeze as she looked at me with obvious annoyance.

For a second, I wondered what she was doing here. Then I noticed another vehicle parked nearby. Mason’s. Of course.

She folded her arms. “You really enjoy provoking my brother, don’t you?”

“Good evening to you too.”

“You nearly started another fight tonight.”

“I seem to remember your brother hitting me just as hard.”

“He wouldn’t have if you hadn’t been running your mouth.”

I chuckled. “You weren’t on the ice.”

“I know my brother, and I’ve heard enough stories about you.”

“Only his version, I’m guessing.”

“It was enough.”

I studied her for a moment. She looked nothing like Mason. Where he carried himself with quiet intensity, Sophia wore every emotion openly across her face. Irritated. Protective. Completely convinced she already knew exactly who I was.

“It’s generally a bad idea to judge someone you’ve spoken to for less than a minute.”

“And it’s generally a bad idea to slam people into hockey boards.”

“Occupational hazard.”

She sighed dramatically. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

For the first time, I noticed the corner of her mouth twitch, as though she was trying very hard not to smile.

Interesting.

Before either of us could say another word, Mason appeared outside the building. “Sophia.”

She looked toward him. “I’m coming.”

Mason’s eyes met mine. The air between us instantly turned cold. Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to. Years of resentment filled the silence for us.

Sophia looked from her brother to me before shaking her head. “You two really are exhausting.”

She walked away before either of us could respond. I watched her disappear into Mason’s vehicle.

Ethan stepped beside me. “You know who that was, right? Mason Blake’s sister.”

“I noticed.”

He gave me a suspicious look. “Forget whatever you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“You looked at her.” He laughed. “Sure you did.”

I shook my head and headed toward my apartment building.

There were millions of women in the world. Sophia Blake was the one woman I should never look at twice.

Which was exactly why it bothered me that, long after I closed my apartment door behind me, I could still picture the determined look in her eyes.

And somehow, I had the feeling that wouldn’t be the last time our paths crossed.