MasukThe bus ride back to Greyhollow was pure torture.In the dark cabin, surrounded by sleeping teammates, Ryder sat stunned and still half-hard while Jax licked his fingers clean with slow, deliberate strokes, eyes never leaving Ryder’s. Then Jax pulled the blanket higher over their laps and slumped against his side, stealing soft, lingering kisses that still tasted like Ryder’s own release.Ryder’s brain was buffering on a loop.He said he loved me. Did that really just happen? Was that really the name for this thing between them?Was the back of a team bus, surrounded by twenty snoring hockey players, really the place to say it?His stomach kept flipping like he was fifteen again.He liked Jax. A lot.He wanted to be with him—all the time.Relationships had always felt restrictive. That’s why what he’d had with Lila had been so perfect: open, easy, no expectations. But with Jax… he didn’t want to touch anyone else. And he sure as hell didn’t want Jax touching anyone else either.But J
They thanked Milo Laskey in a daze.Ryder shook his hand again, muttered something that sounded like “Appreciate it,” while his brain kept looping the same impossible thought: two centers from the same program. Jax did the same, voice steady but eyes a little too wide. Milo just gave them that easy, grounded smile and said, “Think about it. No pressure,” before slipping out the side door like he hadn’t just dropped a grenade in the middle of their lives.Back in the locker room, the noise had mostly died down.A few stragglers were still packing, but the energy had flattened into post-game exhaustion. Ryder moved on autopilot, shoving damp gear into his bag, the zipper loud in the quiet space. His mind wouldn’t stop spinning.A team wanted both of them. Not one or the other. Both. Same lineup. Same city. Same everything.It felt too good to be real. Like the universe had looked at the messy, secret thing growing between them and decided to hand them the perfect future on a silver pl
Milo stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click like he didn’t want to startle anyone. Up close, he looked a little younger than Ryder expected. Fair hair falling loose over his forehead, a plain hoodie and jeans like he’d come straight from somewhere... normal.“Hey,” Milo said, offering a small, easy smile. “Uh—Milo. Milo Laskey.” He rubbed the back of his neck for a second, then dropped his hand and squared his shoulders like he remembered where he was. “Nice to meet you both.”Jax moved first, stepping forward and taking his hand. “Jax Calloway.”“Yeah, I know,” Milo said with a quick huff of a laugh, shaking once, firm but not trying to prove anything. “I’ve heard a lot about you lately.”Ryder stepped in next, gripping Milo’s hand. It was warm, solid. Real.“Ryder Hayes,” he said, then immediately felt stupid. Of course he knew who they were.Meeting a Cup winner should’ve felt bigger. Flashier. Some kind of aura. Instead Milo just felt… steady. G
Larsson didn’t elaborate. Just turned and walked out, leaving the heavy locker-room door swinging behind him with a dull metallic thud.Ryder’s heart gave one hard, uneasy kick against his ribs. He grabbed the nearest clean hoodie… Jax’s, he realized too late, the fabric still carrying that faint cologne-and-ice scent that always messed with his head. He tugged it over still-damp skin. The soft material settled against his overheated chest as he followed the coach into the hallway, bare feet silent on the cold tile.Jax fell in step beside him without a word, their shoulders brushing once. Deliberate, steady, reassuring. The small touch grounded Ryder more than it should have, sending a quiet spark of warmth down his spine even as tension coiled tighter in his gut.They stepped into the small visiting-coach office the home team had loaned out. Dim lights, two folding chairs, a single scarred table that had seen better decades. The air smelled faintly of old coffee and industrial clea
The bus hummed beneath Ryder’s feet as it idled in the parking lot, the early evening sky bleeding into streaks of orange and violet beyond the tinted windows. The next game was away from home, three hours north on the interstate, against the Westlake Bears. A solid mid-tier program with a reputation for bruising defense and a home crowd that loved to make visiting teams feel small. Ryder had always liked playing there; the rink was old-school, loud, and unforgiving, the kind of place that sharpened your edges.He stepped onto the bus last, duffel slung over one shoulder, eyes scanning the rows for an open seat next to Jax.Jax was already settled halfway down on the right, hoodie up, one earbud in, scrolling his phone with that calm, unhurried focus that always made Ryder’s stomach do a lazy flip. The seat beside him was empty.Perfect.Except Connor beat him there by half a second. “Yo, Calloway, scoot,” Connor said, dropping his bag and wedging his broad frame into the aisle seat
Blackmoor.The Vultures. The team that had sat down with him after every big game, the one that had dangled early interest like a shiny lure. His only concrete offer so far. And now Coach was waving Jax over instead, voice casual, like it was nothing.A hot spike of panic punched through Ryder’s ribs. He stood frozen in front of his locker, jersey half peeled off, sweat still cooling on his skin. They were mine. My safety net. My first real shot. The thought looped ugly and loud. What if this was it? What if Blackmoor was the only team that actually wanted him and now they’d seen Jax drive the first line like a fucking freight train and decided the rookie was a better investment?His pulse hammered in his ears. The locker room noise, sticks clattering, guys laughing, the low hiss of showers, it all felt suddenly distant. He forced a slow breath through his nose, reminding himself of the truth he’d been repeating all season.There would be more offers. Scouts had been circling si
Harlow’s house was a whirlwind of emotions, hugs, and excited chaos. Her husband met them at the door, wrapping her up with a soft, relieved “Congratulations, babe,” before shaking Aiden’s hand and hugging Lukas too.Her two boys barreled forward next, each promising to look after their mom. Lukas
Lukas was hurting.His shoulder throbbed, his knuckles burned, and there was a hollow ache sitting heavy in his chest. He’d just beaten the shit out of his best friend, or at least, the guy he’d always thought was his best friend. He didn’t know how to make it right. Punching Mac a few times hadn’t
Morning crept in slow and gray, seeping through the blinds in Mac’s spare room.Lukas woke to the unfamiliar quiet of the empty house, his head thick, his body heavy like he’d been wrestling with dreams all night. For a long moment he lay still, staring at the ceiling, the events of last night pres
Ethan was braced above him like some living wall. Half-shadow, half-sculpture, all heat.His dark hair was tousled and sticking up in chaotic tufts, his jaw rough with stubble that shadowed the sharp lines of his face. Sleep had softened him around the eyes, but it hadn’t dulled the power radiating







