เข้าสู่ระบบPOV: KAIThe press box smells like musty coffee and old popcorn. I sit in the back row, laptop balanced on my knees, hoodie zipped to my chin. The collar still hides most of the mark, but I feel it every time I swallow. Like a reminder I can't delete.Game starts fast. Puck drops. The crowd roars. I type without looking down much—habit now. The Ice Hawks are up early, but it's not the score I'm watching.It's him.Jax skates like he's hunting. Quick stops, hard turns, eyes scanning the ice like he's looking for something specific. Every shift he's on, the rink feels smaller. Every time he touches the puck, the noise in my head quiets for a second.First goal comes at 8:14 of the first. He rips a wrist shot from the slot. Puck hits twine. Light flashes. The crowd loses it.He doesn't celebrate the way the others do. No fist pump. No stick tap. He just glides to center ice, slow. Then he turns, looks straight up at the press box.Straight at me.No smile. No wink. Just that endless da
Interlude: Jax's HeadPOV: JAXI don't think about him all the time.That's what people would say if they knew. They would call it obsession, make it sound loud. It's not loud. It's steady. Like breathing. You don't notice until you stop.First time I saw him—freshman year, hallway, head down over a notebook—he didn't look up. Everyone else did. They always do. But Kai just kept writing. Like the world wasn't happening around him. Like I wasn't happening.I liked that.Then the party, basement, too much noise, too much booze. He laughed at something stupid I said. Looked at me like I was real for once. Not the captain, not the scholarship kid, just me.The door locked. His back against the sink. My hands under his shirt. He trembled. Said my name once...soft, surprised....like he didn't expect to like how it felt coming out.He came apart fast. Eyes wide. Mouth open. I watched every second, memorized it. The way his fingers dug into my shoulders. The way he bit his lip so hard it
~KAI POV~I barely slept.I kept replaying the newsroom door closing. Jax's fingers on my collarbone like he was tracing a claim. My dick stayed half-hard for hours. I jerked off in the dark thinking about his voice saying "good," came fast and hated myself faster. I shower after, cold this time. It didn't help. The marks are still there, throbbing, proof.Morning comes too quickly. My hoods up. Earbuds in. Nothing playing. Just noise to drown the echo of my own breathing.The hallway's packed. Lockers slam. I spin my combo wrong twice. My fingers are still shaky from last night. My neck collar was pulled high. Concealer did jack shit—the bite mark peeks out like a bruise I earned.Then he's there.Three lockers down. Leaning. His phone in hand, reading slowly. Smirking like he's tasting every word I wrote to hurt him.He doesn't look up right away. He lets me feel watched first.When his eyes lift....dark, amused, bruise under the left one looking like he wore it for me...my sto
~KAI~The Jeep smells like him. Like cedar, dried sweat, and the warm leather seats from last night.I woke up with my neck hurting, feeling gross. The sun was really bright. It was 6:47 in the morning. We were parked outside my house.Jax doesn't speak. He doesn't look over. Just hands on the wheel, bruise under his eye gone dark purple.I sit up slow. Everything hurts in a dull, used way. Thighs. Lips. The spot on my neck where his teeth sank in like he was marking property.I reach for the door. His voice cuts the quiet, low and rough."You gonna run every time?"My fingers freeze on the handle."I didn't run," I mutter. "I left.""Same fucking thing."He turns then. His eyes were tired but steady. Like he's been staring at me the whole drive and I just didn't notice.I swallow. My throat raw. "Thanks for the ride."He said nothing. Giving me just that look. I shove the door open. The cold rushes in. Legs shaky when I step out. I catch the frame before I fall.His hand snaps out. G
~KAI~I don't run, not really.I just keep walking until the tunnel spits me out behind the rink, into the loading bay where the Zamboni lives and the snow piles up against the chain-link fence. Cold bites my face. My lips still burn from Jax's mouth. My hoodie's twisted wrong, one sleeve half-up my arm like I got dressed in the dark. I lean against the brick wall. Breathe. Try to make it normal.It doesn't work.My phone buzzes. Once. Twice. I don't look. I know who it is. The third buzz is a text preview that lights up the screen anyway.Jax: 'You left your bag in the tunnel.'I close my eyes. Fuck. There is another buzz.Jax: 'Milo grabbed it. He's looking for you.'Of course he is.I shove the phone in my pocket. Dig my palms into my eyes until I see stars. The taste of blood and cedar is still in my mouth. My throat feels raw from the things I didn't say. From the things I let him do. I should go home. Lock the door. Pretend the last fifteen minutes were a bad dream.Instead
~KAI~The loud buzzer cut through me. Final score lights up...4-3, loss. Jax's fault. He danced around the net instead of burying the puck, took a penalty, and almost started a fight. I am already typing before the crowd stops screaming his name.'Captain Carter's highlight-reel goal came at the cost of two penalties and a near-fight. Talent doesn't excuse recklessness. The Ice Hawks keep winning despite their star forward, not because of him.'I send.I snap the laptop shut. Bag slung over my shoulder. Tunnel ahead....dim, echoing, smelling like wet pads and regret. I hate this place. Hate how every game turns into worship. Hate how I still come.Skates scratch behind me. Quick stop."You're fast tonight."I don't turn. "Deadline.""Bullshit." His voice is low, amused. Closer. Gear clanking softly. "You had that piece done before the third even started."I keep walking. My heart's already too loud.He catches me in three strides. Jax doesn't rush. He just arrives. Six-three, pads s


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