CHAPTER 2: TOO CLOSE

LENA

I couldn’t stop staring at that photo.

Back in my dorm, I sat on my bed with my laptop open, the picture of Cole blown up on the screen. No matter how many times I zoomed in and out, his eyes still looked wrong.

Like they belonged to something that wasn’t fully human. 

I kept telling myself it was just the arena lights. Or maybe the flash on my camera acting up. Hockey players sweat a lot. The ice reflects everything. It had to be that. Right?

Still, I couldn’t delete it.

The next morning on campus, the whispers followed me everywhere. I was grabbing coffee when I overheard two girls talking near the counter.

“You’re seriously going near Cole Arden for that article?” one of them asked. “Girl, be careful. He’s violent. Like, actually scary.”

The other one nodded. “Yeah, last semester some guy bumped into him at a party and Cole almost broke his jaw. He’s unpredictable. Hot as hell, but dangerous.”

I pretended I wasn’t listening, but their words stuck with me. Everyone kept warning me about him. The more they said he was bad news, the more curious I got. That probably said something messed up about me, but I couldn’t help it.

After my afternoon class, I headed back to the arena. Sarah had already texted me twice demanding more material, so I didn’t have much choice. 

The place was loud again, skates scraping, pucks flying, guys yelling plays across the ice.

I found a spot closer to the boards this time and started taking photos. That’s when Noah Reed skated over during a water break. He was the tall one with the messy brown hair who’d been watching me and Cole yesterday. He had an easy smile that made him seem a lot friendlier than the captain.

“You’re the newspaper girl, right?” he asked, leaning on his stick. “Lena?”

“Yeah,” I said, lowering my camera. “Trying to survive this assignment.”

Noah laughed. “Good luck with that. Cole’s not exactly the interview type.”

I hesitated, then decided to push a little. “Does he always act like that? Like the whole world pisses him off?”

Noah shrugged, glancing back at the ice where Cole was doing drills alone. “He’s got a lot on his plate. Barely sleeps most nights. Gets into fights way too easy. And don’t even ask about full moons — dude disappears for hours. Says he needs space or whatever.”

Full moons? That sounded weird as hell. I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but Noah got called back to practice before I could say anything.

I kept watching.

Everything felt normal until one of the younger players took a bad hit. He crashed hard into the ice, sliding awkwardly and grabbing his ankle. 

A couple guys started moving toward him, but Cole was already there. Like, impossibly fast. One second he was across the rink, the next he was kneeling beside the injured player, checking his leg with careful hands.

My camera stayed frozen in my grip. How did he move that quick?

Before I could think too much about it, the doors at the far end of the arena opened. A new group of players walked in, wearing Ridgeview colors. The energy in the building shifted instantly. Everyone went a little tense.

Leading them was a guy who looked like trouble wrapped in charm. Tall, dark hair, sharp jaw, and a smile that probably got him whatever he wanted. 

Damien Holt. I’d seen his name online while researching the rivalry. He scanned the ice like he owned it, then his eyes landed on me.

He smirked.

Practice continued, but it felt different now. More aggressive. Damien kept glancing my way while he warmed up. Then, during a break, he skated right over to the boards where I was standing.

“Hey there,” he said, flashing that easy smile. “You new around here? Don’t think I’ve seen you at these things before.”

“I’m with the school paper,” I answered, trying to keep it professional.

“Pretty girl like you wasting time on these Northcrest idiots?” He leaned closer, voice dropping. “You should come check out Ridgeview sometime. I’ll give you a much better story.”

I didn’t get a chance to respond.

Cole slammed into Damien so hard the boards shook. The sound echoed through the whole arena. One second they were separate, the next Cole had him pinned, gloves off, faces inches apart.

“You don’t talk to her,” Cole growled, low and mean.

Damien just laughed, not even looking scared. “Touchy, Arden. Didn’t know you cared about the press.”

Players from both teams rushed in, trying to pull them apart. It took three guys to get Cole off Damien. The hatred between them was real. Not just normal sports rivalry. It felt deeper. Personal.

The coaches finally stepped in and ended the joint practice early. Everyone was muttering as they headed off the ice.

I waited until most people had cleared out before I slipped outside the arena. The cold evening air hit me hard. I was about to head back to my dorm when I saw him.

Cole was leaning against the brick wall, head down, breathing like he’d just run ten miles. He looked exhausted. 

For the first time, he didn’t seem like the untouchable captain everyone feared.

I don’t know what made me walk over.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

He lifted his head slowly. Those icy blue eyes met mine, and for a second he looked surprised I was still there.

I shifted on my feet. “Earlier… when that guy got hurt. You got to him really fast. Thanks for helping him. Most captains would’ve waited for the coach.”

Cole stared at me for a long moment, like my words didn’t make sense to him. “You noticed that?”

“Yeah. Hard not to.”

He pushed off the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. The silence stretched between us. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t exactly hostile either. Something about him felt different up close like this. Less ice, more weight.

I was about to say something else when he suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist.

His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm. Instinctive. Like he didn’t even mean to do it. The second his skin touched mine, everything went still. My heart jumped. His fingers were warm, way warmer than they should be in this freezing weather.

We both froze.

Cole’s eyes widened just a fraction. He looked down at where his hand was wrapped around my wrist, then back up at my face. For a split second, something raw flashed across his expression. Something almost like panic mixed with hunger.

Neither of us moved.

The air felt thicker. My pulse was loud in my ears.

Then, just as fast as he’d grabbed me, Cole let go like my skin burned him. He took a step back, jaw tight again.

“Stay away from Damien,” he said, voice rough. “And stay away from me.”

Before I could respond, he turned and walked off into the dark, shoulders tense, leaving me standing there with my wrist still tingling from his touch.

I looked down at my hand, heart racing.

What the hell was that?