Chapter 5

The First Rule We Break

Sophie’s Pov

My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird beating its wings in the dark.

I stand frozen in the cold concrete hallway of the hockey arena, staring at Ethan after he pulls away. The ghost of his breath is still warm on my skin, and my lips practically ache from how close we came to crossing the line.

We agreed there would be no kissing.

Those words echo in my head over and over again like a warning bell, but they sound completely hollow now. The truth is, standing there in the shadows with the giant stadium looming around us, I did not want him to step back. I wanted him to close that final inch. I wanted to know what it felt like to forget about Ryan, to forget about the rules, and to just lose myself in Ethan’s strong arms.

"Right," I whisper, swallowing hard as I press my back against the chilly wall to put some safe distance between us. "The rules. Good thing you remembered them."

Ethan runs a hand through his damp hair, his chest still heaving from practice. He looks frustrated, his jaw clenched tight as he stares down at the floor. "Yeah. Good thing," he mutters, though his voice sounds just as shaken as mine. "Let’s get out of here, Sophie. It is freezing."

The ride home is completely silent, filled with a heavy, electric tension that makes the air inside the car feel thick. We do not talk about what almost happened in the arena, but neither of us can pretend it didn't change things. The lines we drew in the sand are starting to blur, and I am terrified of what happens when they wash away completely.

Two nights later, I find myself sitting in the VIP section of the roaring stadium, surrounded by thousands of screaming fans. It is game night. The noise is deafening, a wall of sound and flashing lights that makes my head spin. I am wearing one of Ethan’s favorite team caps just like Marcus, his manager, suggested to keep the media happy. Every camera in the building seems pointed straight at me.

On the ice, the game is brutal. Ethan is playing with an aggressive, restless energy that has everyone on the edge of their seats. He is skating like a wild animal, checking opponents hard against the glass and fighting for every inch of the puck. I can see the frustration burning inside him, and my stomach twists in knots.

Then, things boil over near our side of the boards.

During a stoppage in play, one of the players from the opposing team—a loud, obnoxious forward named Miller who has a history of running his mouth—skates past the penalty box and glances up at me. He laughs, leaning over the glass and shouting something loud enough for the nearby reporters to hear.

"Hey, Carter!" Miller jeers, pointing a gloved finger straight up at me with a nasty grin. "Is it true you're sharing leftovers with your brother? Or do you just like taking whatever Ryan throws away?"

The blood drains straight from my face. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I shrink back into my seat, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me. The humiliation hits me like a physical punch.

On the ice, Ethan freezes.

For a second, the whole world seems to stop moving. I see the exact moment the words register in Ethan’s brain. His head snaps toward Miller, his eyes turning pitch black with pure, lethal fury. The dark reputation his sponsors hate—the hot-headed brawler who cannot control his temper—takes over completely.

Before the referees or anyone else can stop him, Ethan drops his stick, charges across the ice like a freight train, and tackles Miller hard against the boards, sending a shower of white ice chips flying into the air.

"Keep her name out of your filthy mouth!" Ethan roars, grabbing Miller by the front of his jersey and shoving him back so hard the other player almost falls over.

The stadium erupts into absolute chaos. The crowd goes wild, cheering and screaming as the referees rush in to pull them apart. Camera flashes blind me from all directions, capturing every second of Ethan’s explosive defense of my honor.

A few minutes later, after the penalties are handed out and the game resumes, the tension in the room is electric. With only seconds left on the clock and his team down by one point, Ethan gets the puck near center ice. He weaves past two defenders with breathtaking speed, winds up his stick, and fires a blistering slap shot straight into the top corner of the net.

Goal!

The horn blares, shaking the entire building. The fans leap to their feet, roaring like thunder.

Instead of turning to celebrate with his teammates who are rushing toward him, Ethan stops dead on the ice. He rips off his helmet, chest heaving, and looks straight up into the VIP section. His dark eyes lock directly onto mine. A fierce, triumphant smile spreads across his face, and he points right at me for the whole world to see.

Flashbulbs explode everywhere. I know right then that this moment is going to be all over the morning news.

After the game, I am waiting in the quiet concrete hallway outside the locker rooms, my arms crossed over my chest. When Ethan finally pushes through the heavy doors, he looks tired, his hair still damp from the shower, dressed in a sharp dark jacket.

"You lost your mind out there," I say, my voice a mix of anger and worry as I step up to him. "You could have been suspended for the rest of the season! Why did you go after Miller like that?"

"What was I supposed to do, Sophie?" Ethan snaps back, stepping closer, his voice rising in frustration as the heavy emotion spills out of him. "I was supposed to sit there and listen to some jerk talk trash about you? I was supposed to smile and pretend I didn't care?"

"We have rules, Ethan!" I yell back, poking a finger against his chest. "We are supposed to be faking this! You cannot just start a fight every time someone says something stupid, or your career really will be over!"

"Do you think I care about the rules right now?" Ethan shouts, his voice dropping an octave as he traps me against the concrete wall, his hands slamming flat against the surface on either side of my head.

I gasp, my breath catching in my throat. The anger in his eyes suddenly shifts into something much deeper, much more terrifying, and entirely real.

"I am not just playing a part anymore, Sophie," Ethan breathes out, his chest pressing close to mine. His dark gaze burns into my soul. "Pretending to want you... pretending this is all fake... it is driving me completely crazy. Every single day it gets harder to remember that we aren't real."

My heart pounds so hard I am sure he can hear it. Tears prick the corners of my eyes, a terrifying mix of fear and overwhelming longing.

"Stop it, Ethan," I whisper, my voice trembling as I look up at him. "We cannot do this. We made an agreement."

Ethan stares down at my lips, his breathing ragged and uneven. A shaky, desperate breath escapes his lips.

"Do you really want me to follow them?" he asks quietly, his voice barely a murmur in the empty hallway. "Because I don't."

Before I can find the breath to answer, before I can remind him of the rules one last time, Ethan closes the remaining distance between us.