SIX

MASON

I woke up before the alarm.

The room was quiet. Dim gray light pushed through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the floor.

I didn’t move. Just lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, letting my mind run through drills and strategy. Scrimmage was in two days. Coach wanted blood. I’d give him more than that.

Beside me, Audrey slept peacefully.

She always looked perfect when she slept—like something frozen in time. Golden hair fanned out on my pillow, her lips parted slightly, her hand resting over my chest. Gentle. Fragile.

And yet, I felt nothing.

Not like I was supposed to.

We’d been together over a year now. She was the face that smiled beside me in photos. The one everyone thought I’d marry. Figure skater. Pre-med. Ice princess. She looked good on my arm.

And I liked her. I did.

But it wasn’t fire. It wasn’t chaos.

It wasn’t… her.

I shut that thought down fast and slid out of bed.

The shower was cold at first. I welcomed it. I needed clear thoughts and tight focus. My mind didn’t need to wander this morning.

By the time I stepped out, steam curling around the mirror, Audrey was still asleep. Her body tucked beneath the sheets, soft snores barely audible.

“Hey,” I said gently, brushing her shoulder.

She stirred, eyes fluttering open. A small smile curved her mouth. “You’re up early.”

“I’ve got to be at the rink in an hour.”

She stretched, arching slightly. “Same. Coach wants us on the ice before eight.”

I watched her for a beat. She looked up at me with sleepy eyes, like I was hers and always had been.

“Come on,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Let’s get ready.”

We dressed in silence, the kind that had grown too normal lately. She pulled her blonde hair into a sleek ponytail and wore her school-issued skating jacket. I slipped into my training hoodie, the one with our team name printed bold across the chest.

She came to stand beside me at the mirror, applying a quick swipe of gloss. “We look like a Nike ad,” she joked.

I managed a small smile. “Yeah.”

We always looked good together. People loved the idea of us.

How often I caught myself thinking of someone else.

How Samantha’s voice haunted the edges of my thoughts. Her moans. Her mouth. Her fire.

Audrey turned, grabbed her water bottle, and kissed my cheek. “Let’s kill it today.”

“Yeah,” I said again, grabbing my keys.

Audrey sat beside me in the car, humming along to the radio like she was out of this world.

The sun filtered through the windshield, catching the golden strands of her hair and the glint of her lip gloss. She looked soft. Perfect in that way magazines sell you—clean, composed, untouched.

She talked about her skating showcase. Some coach from another city was coming to watch. Big deal, I guess. Her voice danced around the details—music choices, dress colors, and new routines.

I smiled. Nodded when I had to. But I didn’t hear most of it.

My eyes were on her thighs.

The way her shorts rode up when she shifted. The dip where her skin met the seat. I reached across and brushed my fingers along the edge of her leg. Just to feel something.

Audrey giggled. “Mase…” Her tone was playful, but she pushed my hand away, gently. “We’re in public.”

“No one’s watching,” I said under my breath, leaning in close. Close enough to kiss her neck. Close enough to feel how far away she was, even now.

She turned and gave me a quick kiss. A tiny thing, like a whisper of affection. Then she pulled back and smiled that soft, careful smile.

“Hands to yourself, captain.”

I leaned back in my seat. Jaw tight. Not angry—just… left hanging. Again.

Her kisses felt like air lately.

No heat.

No fire.

She used to melt into me. She used to pull me closer like she wanted to disappear inside my skin. Now it felt like she was always holding something back. Like there was a line I wasn’t allowed to cross anymore.

And maybe I was too tired to ask why.

We pulled up outside the rink. She unbuckled her seatbelt, straightening her jacket and adjusting her water bottle. Always composed. Always graceful.

She turned to me one last time. “Wish me luck?”

“You won’t need it,” I said. My voice came out flat, even though I meant the words. “You’ve got this.”

She smiled again, kissed my cheek, and slipped out of the car.

I watched her walk away, ponytail swinging, water bottle in one hand, skates in the other. She waved just before disappearing through the glass doors.

I didn’t wave back.

I sat there for a moment longer, hands still on the wheel, engine running. The radio played on, some love song that didn’t match the mood in my chest.

I wasn’t mad.

Just… unsatisfied.

Like something inside me was caged. Wanting. Restless.

I shifted in my seat, jaw clenched, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

Audrey was sweet. Polished.

But lately, I was starving.

And sweet wasn’t enough anymore.

I pulled out my phone, fingers hovering over the screen for a second. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. We weren’t supposed to talk on campus, and if Macey or Audrey found out—well, that wouldn’t end well.

But damn it, the thought of Samantha—her curves, her mouth, her scent—was already invading my brain. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was almost impossible.

I typed the message before I could talk myself out of it.

“Storage room. 10 minutes. Locker room building.”

It was direct. To the point. I didn’t need anything else.

A moment later, my phone buzzed with her reply.

“We’re not supposed to talk on campus. You said that.”

I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. She always had to be cautious, didn’t she? Too careful. But I knew how to get to her.

I typed back quickly.

“I’ll double the money. Be there in 10. Naked.”

I didn’t wait for her to reply. I knew she would. She always did. Samantha had a way of following the rules until it came to me. And when it came to me, she couldn’t resist.

I leaned back against the headrest, closing my eyes for a moment.

The thought of her flooded my mind, and I was pulled right back to that first night I saw her—at my house, trailing behind Macey, wearing that red lace dress. I shouldn’t have looked. But I did. And I never stopped looking.

It was ridiculous, really. She was Macey’s friend. I shouldn’t have been thinking about her like that. But there I was, watching the way that dress hugged her, the way it clung to every curve.

God, I could hardly breathe when she walked into the room. I had tried to ignore it, tried to act like she didn’t make my blood run hot every time she was near. But I couldn’t.

Her presence was magnetic, like she had this pull that I couldn’t fight. And the worst part? I didn’t want to fight it.

I heard my phone buzz again, bringing me back to the present. Ten minutes. I could feel the anticipation building. I shifted in my seat, the hunger crawling under my skin.