Mag-log inIvy I read the email for the fourth time, hoping the words would somehow change, but they didn’t. Due to immediate postseason media requirements, embedded media staff member Ivy Hart has been reassigned to travel exclusively with the hockey team for the remainder of the championship press tour. I dropped my phone onto the bed. “You have got to be kidding me.” I had done my part. A volunteer couldn’t attend the tournament, so I’d stepped in to cover their assignment. It was supposed to be temporary, something I could complete, collect two points for, and then return to campus. The committee had taken five points away from the total I needed following the scandal with Asher. I’d planned to return to school, catch up on my coursework and find another opportunity to earn the remaining three. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but at least I had a plan. Now, apparently, someone had decided to rewrite it for me. I picked up my phone and checked the email again. There was no men
AsherThe bell above the diner door jingled violently as Ivy rushed out, followed by the heavy slam of the glass door.And just like that, she was gone.I sat frozen in the vinyl booth, my hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly my knuckles had turned white. Her last words kept replaying in my head.I’d appreciate it if we both just went back to being strangers.“Ivy,” I muttered, finally sliding out of the booth.Pain shot through my left shoulder as I pushed away from the table. My bandaged wrist throbbed, but I ignored it. I shoved my good hand into my jacket pocket, pushed the seat back, and headed for the exit.“Hey! Pal!”The waitress popped her head out from behind the counter, holding a handwritten slip.“Who’s paying for the coffee?”I pulled a twenty from my pocket and dropped it on the counter without looking at her before pushing through the heavy glass door.The cold night air hit my face.The street was mostly empty, illuminated by the orange glow of d
Ivy After walking for about fifteen minutes, we ended up at a twenty-four-hour diner three blocks down from the hotel. It was quiet, lit by the harsh, humming glow of fluorescent overhead tubes and smelling faintly of stale coffee and grilled grease. A tired-looking waitress dropped two cracked mugs of coffee on our sticky laminate table, slapped a plastic menu down, and vanished back behind the counter without a word. Across the small booth, Asher sat with his left forearm resting carefully on the table, the stark white athletic bandage looking entirely out of place against the diner's chipped red vinyl seats. He looked exhausted. The championship adrenaline had finally burned out, leaving behind the heavy toll of a brutal game and a battered body. Yet his eyes hadn't left me since we sat down. I stared into my steaming mug, tracing the rim with my thumb, knowing I needed to speak first. Before I could deliver the speech about ending our fake relationship, I remembered what
IvyThe arena was almost empty.A few hours ago, it had been overflowing with people. The stands had been packed, the crowd deafening, and the entire place had erupted when the final horn sounded.Northbridge had won the National Championship. Again.Now, the roar of the crowd had faded into the dull, rhythmic clatter of staff members dismantling equipment, rolling up cables, and packing away the last remnants of the tournament. Most of the players and guests had already left. Only a handful of staff members remained, checking equipment lists and wrapping up their final reports.My hands moved mechanically as I unzipped my camera bag and carefully slid my lenses into their padded compartments. My mind, however, was nowhere near my equipment.It was stuck on him.A smile crept across my face as I glanced down at the photograph glowing on my camera screen. It was one of my favourites from the final game. Asher stood at the centre of the celebration, his teammates crowding around
AsherWestlake equalized midway through the first, capitalizing on a sloppy neutral-zone turnover, and took the lead early in the second. By the time we clawed back to make it 2–2, every shift felt like survival.They were targeting my left side. Whether they knew about the injury or just figured out I was favoring it, every heavy check seemed aimed directly at my shoulder.With three minutes left in the period, Ethan cleared the puck down the ice. I chased it into the corner, bracing for impact.A Westlake defenseman didn’t even bother playing the puck; he just drove his shoulder straight into mine.Pain exploded—not a dull ache this time, but a blinding, sickening flash that stole my breath and left my left arm completely dead at my side. I stumbled hard against the boards, sliding to one knee as the play swept past me.“Captain!” Jax yelled, spinning back.“I’m—I’m good,” I gasped, gritting my teeth so hard my jaw ached.I hauled myself up using the top of my stick, the join
Asher The door had barely closed behind Ivy when it swung open again.“Cap!”Jax poked his head inside, his eyebrows climbing as he took in the sight of me sitting on the bench, staring blankly at the wall.“You coming, or are you planning to marry that bench?”I looked down at the glucose packet still clenched in my hand—the one she’d left like a quiet peace offering. Without a word, I shoved it deep into the pocket of my training pants.“Coming.”Jax stepped inside, then stopped. His eyes moved from my face to the door and back again.“What?” I snapped.“Nothing.”“Then why are you staring at me like that?”“Because you look weird.”“What's weird about my look when I've always look like this.”“No.” He pointed a gloved finger at me. “This is different. You look like someone just told you Christmas came early and handed you a puppy.”“Get out.”“Ah.” His mouth fell open in exaggerated understanding. “It’s the photographer. The fake-girlfriend-turned-obsession.”I gr
Chapter 5: The HeroThe sick bay smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee. Asher carried me straight through the doors like some tragic hero from a romance movie, my wet clothes dripping all over the floor. The nurse on duty jumped up from her desk, eyes wide.“What happened?” she asked, rushing ov
I couldn’t sleep.I tossed and turned on my narrow dorm bed, the sheets twisting around my legs like restraints. Every time I closed my eyes, Asher’s face appeared — that split-second hesitation in the VIP room, followed by the cruel smirk as he shoved me out. Would he keep my secret? Or was he alr
The silence after the slap was deafening.For one heartbeat, the entire student lounge seemed to freeze. Then chaos erupted.Gasps turned into murmurs. Phones stayed raised, lenses pointed straight at us like weapons. Someone whispered, “Did she just slap the captain?” Another voice laughed nervous
The acceptance email had been sitting in my inbox for exactly twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds.Not that I was counting.My hands shook so badly I nearly dropped my phone while crossing the crowded university courtyard. One word stared back at me.Congratulations.It had taken two years of c







