LOGINJax’s mouth crushed against his, hot and unyielding. Ryder didn’t think, couldn’t think. His back hit the cold stall wall hard enough to rattle the metal, a shocked sound breaking from his throat before Jax swallowed it with another kiss.Ryder let it happen.Let Jax take his face in both hands, let him press their bodies together until steam and skin and heat blurred into one overwhelming pull. He grasped blindly for balance, one hand hitting Jax’s shoulder, fingers digging in, the other braced uselessly behind him against the wall.Jax kissed like he played; relentless, controlled, decisive.His tongue moved against Ryder’s with a hunger that made his knees soften, his breath stumble. Their chests collided with every inhale, slick skin sliding, burning, sparking everywhere they touched. Ryder’s cock throbbed against Jax’s thigh, and the low grunt Jax let out shot straight through him.Jax crowded him further, hips pinning Ryder to the wall as if there were no space in the world exce
Practice finally wrapped, whistles blowing, players dispersing in scattered groups toward the tunnel. Ryder skated off last, partly because he made sure did one more rep than everyone else, partly because his brain was still twisted up over Calloway.By the time he trudged down the hall toward the locker room, he was worked up enough to snap.The second he pushed open the door and turned toward Jax's spot, the words flew out of him, fast.“Why did you do that? I had it covered—”He stopped.Jax wasn’t changing, wasn’t moving around his stall like usual. He was sitting on the bench, elbows braced on his knees, breathing slow and controlled.The sight silenced Ryder instantly.His chest tightened with something that felt uncomfortably close to guilt.Why had Jax taken that hit for him? Why put himself in the line of fire? It wasn’t friendly. Wasn’t logical. It wasn’t rivalry.Before Ryder could make sense of the mess in his chest, heavy footsteps rounded the corner.Coach Larsson.Comin
Monday morning, meant Ryder had officially survived another week. Not gracefully. Not quietly. But he was one step closer to star center again.He hadn’t relaxed the way he’d planned over the weekend. Between the gym chaos, the team inhaling forty pizzas, and the mental freefall that happened every time Jax Calloway breathed in his direction, Ryder felt like he’d lived a month in forty‑eight hours.But his body… was finally adjusting.Conditioning that morning? He killed it.He even got to the rink early, legs burning in that addicting, good kind of way. The pain was starting to dull into something he could push through without making a face.Then he made it to all of his classes early.Which would’ve been impressive, if he hadn’t spent most of them staring at the back of Calloway’s head.That stupid dark hair. Those stupid broad shoulders taking up half the row. The way he sat perfectly straight, like he’d been carved from concentration and arrogance.Ryder’s pencil hovered uselessly
The next morning, half the Wolf Den, and a handful of extra teammates, swarmed the campus gym after a loud night of pizza and beer. It was loud, chaotic, and smelled like sweat, rubber flooring, and too much cheap body spray.Connor and Drew were on the treadmills, racing each other like idiots. Max was perched on a bench press machine he wasn’t even using, playing a game on his phone. Beck was supervising from the stretching mats, pretending he wasn't hungover.Ryder was doing his best to act normal.Which meant doing his best to ignore Jax Calloway.He planted himself by the free weights, pretending he wasn’t dying inside every time he so much as touched a dumbbell. His whole body protested, mostly from actual training, partly from… other activities.But ignoring Calloway was impossible.Because Jax had decided to stretch.And stretch.And stretch.He’d been doing it for fifteen fucking minutes.Jax knelt on one of the mats, hands braced behind him as he eased into a deep quad stret
Jax drove with one hand loose on the wheel.The car still had that fresh‑off‑the‑lot shine, sleek, sharp, powerful, but it felt hollow. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was everything else. Whatever the reason, the car didn’t give him the rush he’d hoped for; it was just another machine eating up an empty stretch of road.The late‑afternoon sun hung low, pouring warm orange light across the dash, flashing over his knuckles every time the car glided past a break in the trees. He wasn’t speeding, but he wasn’t taking his time either, his mind restless.Lila’s voice spilled through the speakers, bright and edged with concern. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”Jax didn’t sigh, but it tugged at him. “It’s fine.”“Jax…” she pressed. “Look, Ry’s not an actual stalker, so there's no way he'll figure this out, but he’s suspicious. And stubborn. And loud. And he doesn’t let go of things once he grabs onto them.”Jax snorted.Yeah. He knew.He'd seen it in the way Ryder had followed him down the hal
The campus gym smelled like rubber flooring, old sweat, and a handful of guys pretending they weren’t hungover. Ryder pushed through the double doors like he owned the place. Chest out, jaw tight, every part of him screaming in protest.He ignored that.He ignored everything.Especially the aches lower in his body that had absolutely nothing to do with hockey.Leo trailed behind him, wary but mostly unfazed.Ryder slapped his ID at the check-in desk. The student worker barely glanced up before waving him through.He turned immediately, eyes scanning the place. Treadmills. Free weights. Squat racks.No Calloway.He scowled. Had the bastard already come and gone? There was no way. It took weeks, sometimes months, to get card access as a transfer, and Jax’s name hadn’t been on the sign-in logs Leo filled in.So where the fuck was he?"You good?" Leo asked quietly."Peachy," Ryder muttered.He marched straight to the row of free weights, grabbed a dumbbell that was far too heavy for the c
“No.”Aiden's voice ripped through the tension, savage and unyielding. His hands were fists at his sides, knuckles white, every line of his body pulled taut with fury.“Absolutely not,” he said again, louder this time, each syllable vibrating with restraint. “You don’t walk in here, after everythin
Lukas stepped out into the cool air, pulling his hoodie tighter with one hand and gripping his phone in the other.He brought up a ride app and stabbed his thumb at the screen, muttering under his breath. "Come on, come on..."The sooner he could get to the airport and away from all this, the bette
Lukas could see it. The crack in Aiden’s composure, hairline at first, now spiderwebbing with each breath they took in the cramped, warm bathroom.The doctor’s voice, usually all crisp authority, came low and thick, faltering on the words. “I—touched… my face,” he said, the sound heavy with somethi
Lukas refused to get off the couch for dinner. Aiden set the plates on the coffee table and handed Lukas his, ignoring the scowl he got in return when he tried to hover. Lukas managed to keep Aiden from hand-feeding him, though.They ate in relative silence, the low murmur of the TV filling the roo







