LOGINPractice 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
Ryder woke up in his own bed with a much smaller headache than he'd hoped for.A pounding, brutal hangover would’ve been convenient right now. Something he could blame it all on. Hell, maybe he could claim he’d been drunk all week. But the dull throb behind his eyes wasn’t nearly enough. He blinked at the ceiling, as the memories of last night hit. Hard.The face Jax made when Brooke yanked him down beside her. That quick, sharp widening of his eyes, shock and discomfort, before he erased it completely. That look stuck under Ryder’s skin like a splinter.Then the rest of the night flashed behind his eyes with brutal clarity.Jax’s fingers in Ryder’s hair, tight and commanding. Ryder’s knees hitting the floor, the hardwood beneath him. And then Jax’s cock against his lips. The heat of it, the weight of it, the way Jax’s breath broke when Ryder took him deeper, thighs tense on either side of Ryder’s shoulders like he was losing control. Ryder’s hands had trembled, trying not to think, n
Mac managed to convince Ell to let him stay and help, though it took some gentle persistence. She didn’t seem all that bothered by whether he was around or not, but eventually, she gave a small shrug and said, “Fine, if you really want to. There’s plenty to do.”It pissed Lukas off more than he wan
The diner smelled like burnt coffee and syrup, the kind of place that hadn’t seen an upgrade since the early nineties. It was a regular haunt for the team, their go-to spot after late practices and post-game meals.Lukas stepped inside first, shoulders hunched against the cold, scanning the empty b
Lukas groaned, pressing his head back against the locker. “Fuck, I need to take the damn cup off,” he panted. The hard plastic bit into him, each pulse of arousal a sharp reminder that it wasn’t built for this kind of torture.Aiden’s grip tightened around his arm, pushing his wrist up against the
The room felt like it had been polished to within an inch of its life, every surface gleaming, the air smelled faintly of lavender and money. After Aiden left, the quiet settled in a way that made Lukas feel huge and clumsy inside it, all broad shoulders and too-long legs on a sofa meant for delica







