로그인The second I see that picture, the red X slashed across Lena’s face, something inside me snaps. Not panic. Not fear. Something darker. Hotter. Rage. This shouldn’t be happening. Not with all the cameras Daniels installed. Not with the extra security. Not with the precautions we took after the blade incident. I turn on Daniels, my voice sharper than I mean it to be. “How the hell did someone get in here without being seen?”He doesn’t flinch. “I don’t know. But we’re about to find out.”The rink manager walks in, carrying his laptop like it weighs a hundred pounds. He looks pale, nervous, like he already knows he’s about to give us bad news.“I pulled everything we have,” he says, setting the laptop on the bench. “But… someone tampered with the system.”My jaw tightens. “Tampered how?”“They wiped the hallway feeds,” he says. “Every camera leading to the locker rooms. It’s like the footage never existed.” Lena’s breath catches beside me. I grab her hand without thinking. “But,” the man
I wake slowly, drifting up from sleep like I’m floating. The first thing I notice is warmth. The second is weight, a steady arm wrapped around my waist, holding me close. Evan. For a moment, I just lie there, listening to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against my back. It’s peaceful. Safe. Something I didn’t realize I’d been craving until now. Then the memories of last night hit me. The candles. The pizza. The quiet talking. Me… being bold. Me choosing him. Me not hiding anymore.My face heats. I can’t believe how forward I was. I’m not usually like that, I’m careful, cautious, always afraid of saying too much or wanting too much. But last night? I was tired of hiding. I did that once before. I hid how I felt. I pretended it didn’t matter. And he walked away. Not because he wanted to, but because I never gave him a reason to stay. Now he’s here. Now he wants to be with me. Now he’s choosing me. So I went for it. I wanted him to know I felt the same way.I carefu
The guys and I are crammed into the lounge at the arena, half‑dressed for practice, all glued to the TV like it’s the Stanley Cup Finals instead of a figure‑skating competition. But honestly? It feels like the Finals. Because Lena’s skating.And I swear, I’m cheering loud enough she should be able to hear me from three states away. When her score flashes, the room explodes. “LET’S GO, LENA!” Mason yells, throwing his hands up.“FIRST PLACE!” another teammate shouts.Someone grabs me in a headlock, shaking me like I just scored a hat trick. I’m laughing, yelling, clapping, everything at once. God, I wish I could’ve been there in person. Watching her on TV is incredible, but seeing her skate live? It’s something else. It’s magic. And today? She was unstoppable. My Lena is back. Stronger. Calmer. More confident than I’ve seen her in months. She’s ready for Nationals. Hell, she’s ready for anything.But then the camera cuts to Sabrina. And everything inside me goes cold. She’s standing st
Sabrina finishes her routine like she’s auditioning for a crown she already thinks she owns. Her jumps are sharp. Her spins are clean. Her smile is smug. And when her score flashes, almost perfect, the crowd erupts. My stomach twists. Daniels stands beside me, arms crossed, jaw tight. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches Sabrina glide off the ice like she’s floating on her own ego.Then he turns to me.“Don’t look at her,” he says quietly. “She’s not your competition. The ice is.” I nod, but relaxing is easier said than done. Because I know exactly what Sabrina will do if I don’t score as high as she did. She’ll smirk. She’ll brag. She’ll make sure everyone hears her. And I’ll have to pretend it doesn’t bother me. I take a slow breath, trying to steady myself.Evan isn’t here. He couldn’t make it, his team is already prepping for the Stanley Cup series against Colorado next week. He promised he’d watch on TV. Mason said the whole team would. But it’s not the same as having h
I’ve watched the video at least ten times. Lena’s blade snapping off. Her body slamming into the ice. The gasp from Coach Daniels. The chaos.And every single time, I feel the same rush. Finally. Finally something is going my way. Everyone keeps acting like she’s some fragile little miracle, but look at her, she’s not untouchable. She’s not perfect. She’s not better than me. And the best part?No one has any idea I had anything to do with it. I’m skating through my routine, feeling light, powerful, right, when my phone buzzes on the boards. I glide over, already annoyed at the interruption. It’s Marcy. Of course it is.I can’t do this anymore. They’re locking down the rink. Cameras everywhere. After what happened to Lena’s skates… I’m out.I roll my eyes so hard it hurts. She always panics. Always. That’s why she’s useful, she’s desperate to be included, desperate to be liked, desperate to matter. People like that are easy to control.I type back:You’re overreacting. They can’t put c
Warmth. That’s the first thing I feel when I wake up. Warmth… and something solid beneath my cheek. It takes a second for my brain to catch up. A chest. A heartbeat. An arm wrapped around my waist. Evan. My eyes fly open, panic shooting through me. I try to shift away, quietly, carefully, but even in his sleep, he pulls me closer, tucking me against him like I belong there. My breath catches.His face is relaxed, peaceful in a way I rarely see. His hair is a mess, his jaw rough with stubble, his lips parted slightly as he breathes. And just like that, the panic melts. Because this feels… right. Too right. Dangerously right.I stare at him, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always does around him. I’m falling for him...again, and it terrifies me. Because last time? Last time I let myself feel this way, I ended up shattered. I swallow hard, trying to pull myself together. Then his voice, deep, husky, sleep‑rough, breaks through the quiet. “You’re staring.”I jump, heat rush
I wasn’t expecting to see her. Not at five in the morning. Not on the frozen pond behind the high school. And definitely not with her coach hovering beside her like she might shatter if he breathed too loud. But there she was.Lena Merritt.The girl I spent half my life trying to impress and the ot
The world is still dark when I step out of the car. It’s barely five in the morning, the kind of cold that bites through my jacket and settles in my bones. The high school’s security lights cast a soft glow over the frozen pond, just enough to make the ice shimmer like glass. My breath curls in fro
Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve been home. Long enough for my body to stop aching, for the bruises to fade, for my mom to stop hovering every time I stretch. Long enough to pretend I’m fine.I’m not. Every morning, I wake up and tell myself I’ll go to the rink. I even lace my skates, pack my bag, a
Suspension tastes like metal. That’s the only way I can describe it, that bitter, coppery tang that sits on your tongue when you’re trying not to punch a wall. Or someone’s face. Or your own reflection.Three weeks ago, I walked out of the league office with a two‑game suspension and a fine big eno







