The Midnight Duel

The party at the Alpha house was still on when I slipped out the back door. The bass from the speakers was a dull thud in my chest, and the smell of cheap beer seemed to hold on to my skin. I had spent the last hour standing next to Chloe, nodding at boosters and smiling for photos, but I felt like I was suffocating. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on Jax’s face in that hallway. I saw the way he looked at Sarah, and the way he looked at me.

I didn't go back to our apartment. I couldn't. The thought of that small, quiet room and that single bed made my throat go tight. Instead, I drove to the one place that had always been my sanctuary.

The Northwood Arena was a dark shadow under the moonlight. I had a key because I was the Captain,a position my father had made sure I received on my first day. The air inside the arena was cold. It was the only smell that ever made me feel like I could actually breathe.

I didn't turn on the big overhead lights. I sat on the wooden bench in the dark, my fingers trembling slightly as I laced up my skates.

I started to glide, picking up speed, feeling the wind hit my face. I wanted to skate until my legs burned. I wanted to skate until I forgot about everything. I was halfway across the center line when I heard a sound. I spun around, In the dim light of the emergency exit signs, I saw a figure standing near the visitor's goal. He wasn't wearing his jersey. He just had on a black shirt and his hockey pants.

"You’re late, Simpson," Jax said.

His voice was calm. It just sounded... tired.

"What are you doing here, Miller?" I asked, breathing hard. I skated closer, stopping ten feet away. "The party is still going. I thought you were busy with your new friend Sarah."

Jax leaned on his stick. I could see the white puff of his breath in the air. "Sarah is nice. But she’s part of the noise. Everything at this school is so loud, Liam. I needed some quiet."

"I needed the quiet too," I admitted. The words felt strange. I never told people what I needed. I just did what I was told.

Jax looked at the puck sitting near his skates. He flicked it up with his stick and caught it in his hand.

"Since we’re both here, and we’re both miserable... Why don't we play? No Coaches. No scouts. Just us."

I looked at him. Really looked at him.

"A 1-on-1?"

"Yeah," Jax said, a small smile touching his lips.

"First to five goals wins. The winner gets the bed to themselves tonight and the loser has to sleep on the floor."

"You really want to sleep on the floor that badly? Fine. You're on."

We started to play.

It wasn't like a team practice. It was fast. Jax moved like a ghost in the dark, his skates making a constant shhhhh sound as he cut across the ice. He was smaller than me, but he was very strong. Every time we collided, I felt the solid muscle of his shoulder against mine.

"Is that all you got, Captain?" Jax panted as he dodged my reach.

"Not even close," I grunted. I scored the first goal. A clean shot into the empty net.

"One-zero," I said, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

"Lucky shot," Jax shot back. He came at me again, his eyes focused. He didn't play like a robot. He played with his heart. He took risks. He skated into spaces I wouldn't dream of going.

He scored the next one. He danced around me and flicked the puck in before I could even turn my hips.

"One-one, Simpson. Watch your feet."

As the minutes passed, the game changed. We stopped talking. We just moved. Every time our bodies slammed together, it felt like electricity.

I am here, his body seemed to say as he pushed against me.

I see you, my movement replied as I blocked his path.

We were tied at 4-4. We were both exhausted. My legs felt like lead, and my lungs were burning from the cold air. Sweat was dripping down my face, freezing on my eyelashes.

"Last... goal... wins," Jax wheezed. He was leaning over his stick, his chest heaving.

"Don't... cry... when you lose," I panted back.

I took the puck. I started at the blue line. I moved toward him, my mind clear for the first time in weeks. I faked to the left, then pulled the puck back to the right. Jax saw it. He moved with me. We were perfectly in sync.

I tried to power past him, but Jax threw his weight into me. We were both moving too fast. Our sticks got tangled between our legs. I tripped, and because I was holding onto his arm, I pulled him down with me.

We went crashing onto the ice. I was lying on my back, and Jax was partially on top of me, his hands on my shoulders to catch his fall.

The silence of the arena came back, but it wasn't empty anymore. It was full of the sound of our breathing.

I looked up at him. Jax was inches away from my face. His hair was a mess, damp with sweat. His dark eyes were wide, looking down at me with an expression I couldn't name. He wasn't pulling away. He was just... looking.

"Liam," he whispered.

My heart did a slow, heavy roll in my chest. He wasn't calling me Captain. He wasn't calling me Simpson. He said my name.

"Yeah?" I breathed.

"You're not a robot," he said softly. His hand moved slightly on my shoulder, his thumb brushing against my collarbone. "I don't know why you pretend to be."

"I have to be," I said, my voice shaking. "If I'm not... then I don't know who I am."

"You're this guy," Jax said. He moved closer.

."The guy who comes to the rink at midnight because he’s lonely. The guy who plays like his life depends on it."

I looked at his lips. I wanted to reach up. I wanted to pull him down. Jax leaned in. Just an inch. I could feel his breath on my skin.

CLATTER.

A loud noise came from the tunnel. A metal bucket had fallen over. Then, a bright flashlight beam swept across the far stands.

"Hey! Who's in here?" the security guard’s voice boomed through the building.

We scrambled apart instantly. I rolled away, my heart racing with fear. Jax was already on his feet, reaching for his gloves.

"Go! The side exit!" I whispered.

We didn't look back. We grabbed our gear and ran across the ice, our skates clicking loudly until we reached the rubber mats. We threw our shoes on and ran out the side door into the freezing night air.

We reached my car and stood there, leaning against the cold metal, gasping for air.

"The game... it was a tie," Jax said, looking at the ground.

"Yeah," I said, my hands trembling as I pulled out my keys. "A tie. Nobody gets the floor."

"Right."

We got into the car. The drive back to the apartment was silent. I looked at Jax in the passenger seat. He was staring out the window, his jaw tight. I looked at my own hands on the steering wheel. I had found something I wasn't supposed to find.

I was terrified. Because for a split second on that ice, I didn't care about the trade. I didn't care about my father. I only cared about the way Jax Miller looked at me.

We reached the apartment and walked inside. The room was dark, just like always. We climbed into the single bed, back to back, leaving a cold gap between us.

"Goodnight, Liam," Jax said into the darkness.

"Goodnight, Jax," I replied.