Chapter 5

Rosa POV

Chloe grabbed my hand, and we sprinted across the quad, joining the stampede of students rushing toward the campus ice arena. The double doors were propped wide open, and the freezing, chilled air of the rink hit us like a blow the second we squeezed our way inside.

We pushed through the wall of bodies, elbowing our way to the front of the packed bleachers overlooking the ice.

Out on the center ice logo, Drake stood in his full RavenBrook hockey gear, minus his helmet, chest heaving under his jersey. His jaw was locked so hard I could see the muscles jumping, and his dark eyes burned with a terrifying fury.

Standing opposite him was Cole Montgomery—the arrogant, smug captain of Westbridge University. Cole was leaning casually on his hockey stick, a mocking half-smile plastered across his face as he jawed at Drake about a high stakes regional tournament bet, tossing out lazy jabs about RavenBrook’s "fragile ego."

"You guys talk a big game in the locker room, Drake," Cole called out, his voice echoing loudly off the cavernous glass walls of the arena. "Too bad your team folds the second the real pressure hits. Though, I guess you're used to getting things handed to you. Take your pick of any girl on campus, flash a smile, and she falls right open, right?"

The crowd in the bleachers murmured nervously. Drake’s fists clenched so tightly around his stick that his knuckles turned stark white. A dark, murderous expression took over his face, and he took a sharp, aggressive step forward, invading Cole's space until they were chest-to-chest.

The entire arena held its collective breath. Everyone waiting for the gloves to drop, for a fist to fly, for blood to hit the ice.

Before a punch could land, Cole’s eyes drifted away from Drake. He scanned the front row of the bleachers, his gaze lazily sweeping over the crowd until they landed directly on me.

Cole’s expression twisted into an approving, sleazy smirk.

"Or maybe," Cole raised his voice, pitching it so it echoed clearly across the rink, pointing a gloved finger right up at me, "we make things interesting. If you lose, Hayes, I take your sister's pretty little friend down there for a week. Let's see how she likes a real winner."

My breath hitched. Beside me, Chloe went completely rigid, her jaw dropping.

Down on the ice, Drake’s head snapped up from Cole. His gaze locked on me in the bleachers, and the flash in his piercing blue eyes made my blood run ice-cold. It was the look of a guy whose territory had just been threatened.

Cole wasn't finished. He grinned wider, rubbing salt in the wound. "Remember when I beat you on the ice last season, Drake? If you can actually win this time around, I'll walk away. But if you don't? I'm taking Rosa as my wh*re for a week. Bring her over here so she knows what she's playing for."

"What the f*ck did you just say?" I gasped, looking over at Chloe in absolute shock, my face burning with humiliation and rage.

Before I could even process the words, two Westbridge players standing near the front of the bleachers roughly grabbed my arms. Before Chloe could scream or pull me back, they hurled me right over the low wall, sending me stumbling across the slick ice.

My feet slipped out from under me, and I braced myself to hit the hard frozen surface….

A massive pair of arms caught me mid-fall. Drake moved with speed. He dropped his stick, scooped me up against his hard chest, and pulled me completely behind him.

His eyes were locked on Cole, blazing with a murderous fury that promised someone was going to leave the ice in an ambulance.