Chapter 2: The Straight Line

The weight of Jaxson’s massive body vanished instantly as he scrambled backward on the ice. He swore loudly, his blades cutting deep, ragged gashes into the surface as he stood up. He looked down at Liam, his dark eyes a volatile mix of shock and fury, before snapping his head toward the arena gate where Sarah was standing.

"A what?" Jaxson’s voice boomed through the empty rafters. "Tell me you're joking, Sarah."

Liam pushed himself up onto his elbows, his breath still ragged. The cold from the ice was finally soaking through his thin training pants, making his skin sting, but the heat flashing across his face was pure humiliation. He brushed the ice shavings off his sweater, trying to maintain a shred of dignity as he glided back to his feet. His waist still tingled where Jaxson’s heavy hockey gloves had clamped down onto his skin.

"I wish I were joking," Sarah said. She stepped through the gate, her heels clicking sharply against the rubber mats. She held out her iPad, the bright screen displaying a frantic, fast-moving live chat next to a paused video screen.

Liam skated closer, reluctantly standing next to Jaxson. The captain smelled like ice and pure, unfiltered adrenaline, his massive shoulder nearly brushing against Liam's.

On the screen, a pixelated video showed their entire interaction through the glass. From the outside, it didn't look like an aggressive hockey captain trying to intimidate a figure skater. It looked intensely intimate. The way Liam had stepped directly into Jaxson's space, the way Jaxson had pinned him with his gaze, and finally, the spectacular crash that left them tangled on the ice with Jaxson’s hands locked around Liam’s waist.

The headline flashing across the sports blog stream read: *Warriors Captain Jaxson Thorne Swept Off His Feet By New Figure Skating Coach?*

"Delete it," Jaxson growled, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched beneath his stubble. "Call the network. Threaten a lawsuit. I don't care what you have to do. I’m straight, Sarah. I’ve only ever dated women. The media knows this."

"It's a public live stream, Jaxson, it's already been clipped and re-uploaded a thousand times on TikTok," Sarah countered, rubbing her temples. "And it gets worse. Look at the comments."

Liam leaned in slightly, his eyes scanning the rapidly scrolling text.

*– Oh my god, the way he caught him? That wasn't a hockey check, that was a tackle of passion.*

*– Wait, is Jaxson Thorne actually dating a figure skater? Please say yes.*

*– Look at his hands on the little guy's waist! He’s so protective!*

"This is ridiculous," Liam snapped, his voice sharp with disgust. "I am a professional athlete, not some prop for your team's media circus. Tell them the truth. Tell them your captain has the agility of a brick wall and tripped over his own ego. And for the record, I’m into women too. I’ve never looked at a guy like that in my life."

"Is that right, pixie?" Jaxson whipped his head around, glaring down at Liam with a harsh, defensive scoff. "Good. Because you’re definitely not my type. I like curves, not sharp edges."

"Enough! Both of you!" Coach Miller’s voice cut through the tension like a circular saw. He walked over from the bench, his face completely pale. "The front office just called. The team owner is on his way to the executive conference room. He wants both of you up there in five minutes. And Thorne? Don't bother taking off your pads."

Ten minutes later, Liam found himself sitting in a plush leather chair on the top floor of the stadium, looking through the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. The room practically oozed old money and corporate power.

Jaxson sat in the chair right next to him, still in his bulky hockey pants and jersey, looking utterly out of place but completely unbothered. He leaned back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, tapping his fingers against the polished mahogany table.

At the head of the table stood Mr. Sterling, the billionaire owner of the New York Warriors. He wasn't looking at them; he was staring at a massive television screen that was currently broadcasting a sports entertainment segment breaking down the "rink collision."

"Jaxson," Mr. Sterling began, his voice dangerously soft as he turned around. "Two weeks ago, you got into a bar fight that cost this franchise half a million dollars in PR cleanup. The league is already looking for any excuse to suspend you for the season."

Jaxson opened his mouth to defend himself, but Sterling held up a single, manicured hand to silence him.

"And Liam," Sterling continued, turning his sharp gaze toward the figure skater. "I’ve reviewed your file. A phenomenal talent, but completely broke. The athletic board dropped your funding, and you can't even afford the ice time required to train for the upcoming Olympic trials."

Liam’s fingers tightened into fists against his knees. Having his financial desperation laid out on a silver platter in front of his arrogant new boss—and his rival—felt like a physical blow. He didn't look at Jaxson, but he could feel the captain's eyes shifting toward him, the heavy gaze suddenly quiet.

"The way I see it," Mr. Sterling said, leaning against the table, "this viral disaster is actually a miracle."

"What do you mean?" Jaxson asked, his brow furrowing.

"The public loves a romance, especially an unexpected one," Sterling explained, a cold, calculating smile spreading across his face. "If we tell the media that the bar fight two weeks ago happened because someone insulted your boyfriend, the suspension threat vanishes. You're no longer a violent liability. You're a protective partner."

Liam’s heart skipped a beat. A terrible, sinking feeling formed in his stomach. "Mr. Sterling, you can't be suggesting—"

"An exclusive relationship contract," Sterling interrupted smoothly, sliding two thick folders across the mahogany table. One stopped in front of Liam; the other in front of Jaxson. "Six months. You move into Jaxson’s penthouse to make it look authentic to the paparazzi. In exchange, the Warriors franchise will fully fund Liam's Olympic training, including elite coaching and private ice time."

"Are you insane?" Jaxson roared, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up, his massive hockey pads rattling. "We just told you, we’re both straight! I don't date guys. He doesn't date guys. How the hell are we supposed to sell a fake gay romance to the entire country?"

"You're athletes. Act like it's a team play," Sterling said flatly, completely unmoved by the outburst. "The media already bought the narrative based on that video. If you deny it now, Jaxson, you sit out the entire season on a league suspension, your captaincy is revoked, and Liam walks out of here with nothing. Sign the papers, boys. The cameras are waiting downstairs."

Jaxson breathed heavily, his gaze snapping down to Liam. Liam looked back up at him, his mind racing. They absolutely despised each other, and the thought of pretending to be attracted to another man made Liam’s stomach twist with an entirely new kind of nervousness. But without this money, he was nothing.

Slowly, Liam reached out and picked up the heavy silver pen resting on the table. He looked Jaxson dead in the eye, his hand trembling slightly but his expression fiercely determined.

"Six months," Liam whispered, his voice steadying as he pressed the pen to the paper. "Just don't touch me when the cameras aren't rolling. I don't swing that way, and neither do you, so this should be easy."

Jaxson watched him sign the document, his jaw working silently. For a long, agonizing moment, the room was completely silent. Then, with a harsh curse, Jaxson ripped the second pen from the holder, leaned over the table, and scribbled his signature at the bottom of the page so violently the paper nearly tore.

"Fine," Jaxson rasped, straightening up and towering over Liam with a dangerous, intense glare. "But let's get one thing straight, pixie. I'm doing this to save my captaincy. Don't go falling for me, because it's never going to happen."

Liam let out a cold, sharp laugh, standing up to meet him eye-to-eye. "Trust me, Thorne. You couldn't pay me enough to actually want you."

Mr. Sterling smiled, clapping his hands together. "Excellent. Sarah, call the press. Let's welcome our new couple to the spotlight."