Lahat ng Kabanata ng Breaking The Ice Between Us : Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck, skates slicing the ice in lazy arcs as I made my way toward the far blue line. Most of the team was already out, scattered across the rink, some stretching against the boards, some lazily stick-handling pucks, and some goofing off like it wasn’t 8 a.m. and we weren’t about to get our asses handed to us by Coach if we didn’t take warm-ups seriously.James had peeled off somewhere behind me, muttering something under his breath about how he was “so done” with my emotionally constipated ass. Whatever. He could add it to the list of things I didn’t have time for this morning.I dropped my stick and started my usual laps—slow at first, letting my body adjust to the glide and resistance of the ice beneath me. My muscles burned, but it was that good kind of ache, the one that made you feel alive, like every part of your body was doing exactly what it was made to do. The gym session earlier had me sore as fuck, especially my legs, but I liked the way

The door slid open with a hiss just as I was halfway through my meal, tongue deep in the middle of a perfectly greasy burger. I didn’t even look up at first—I was focused on my meal. But James let out a low whistle, dragging the straw of his drink between his lips like he was about to drop something juicy.“What’s your crush doing here?”Crush?I blinked at him, brows raised, head tilting slightly like maybe he hit his head on the way in.Then I followed the direction of his eyes—across the diner, right by the entrance.And just like that, I forgot the taste of my burger. Everything else faded—the clatter of plates, the low hum of conversations, the shitty pop music playing overhead. All of it blurred out.Because standing there, in a slightly oversized hoodie, jeans hugging his hips way too well, and his hair a little messier than usual... was Andrew.But that wasn’t what knocked the air out of me.It was the guy walking next to him.Malik.Again.My entire body froze. My burger slip

ANDREW ~>>The sun had dipped low by the time we stepped out of the shop, the sky turning that deep peachy color that made everything feel softer—like the world was sighing in relief after a long day. A breeze rolled through the street, cool and crisp, tugging at the hem of my hoodie as I shoved my hands into the pocket, already half-regretting the sugar rush I’d just inhaled.Beside me, Malik sipped lazily from his tall milkshake, one of those overly aesthetic ones with whipped cream stacked like a snowcap and some kind of cookie jammed at an angle like a flag of surrender.“Okay,” he said between slurps, “note to self: this shops over every coffee shops for group meets. My taste buds are reborn.”I huffed a laugh. “You say that now, wait till your stomach starts protesting in an hour.”“It’s called living on the edge, Andrew. Try it sometime.”I shook my head, smiling despite myself as we strolled toward the street corner. The campus was a short walk from here, and I figured I’d he

I drove with one hand clenched on the steering wheel and the other gripping the gear shift so tight my knuckles hurt. The road blurred past me in streaks of warm color, headlights like phantom eyes blinking in and out of existence. The sun had fully dipped below the horizon now, leaving only the bruised blue of early night behind.God, I was in a shit mood.Like, the kind where your whole body feels like it’s been scraped raw with sandpaper and dunked in lemon juice. Where the world feels too loud, too tight, too… stupid.I hate being in a bad mood. It’s exhausting. It clings to you like cheap cologne—makes you short with people, makes your head buzz, makes you say shit you don’t mean. But worse than that? It makes me feel out of control. And I hate that even more.My phone buzzed on the passenger seat, but I didn’t look at it.I knew what it would say.Either Malik checking in or some pointless class group chat blowing up over who forgot to submit the assignment outline.I didn’t wan

I didn’t sleep.Not even a little.I laid there for hours, staring at the same spot on my ceiling like it owed me answers. Like if I just focused hard enough, it would blink twice and tell me why I had that dream, out of all the dreams in the world. Not my mom waking up. Not me joining the NHL or winning the championship. Not being handed a check for a million dollars and told I never had to do OnlyFans again.No. My brain went with a steamy, full-sensory fantasy involving Captain. The guy who shoved me against a wall a while ago. The guy who looked at me like I was dirt—until suddenly he didn’t.And now?Now I was lying in a puddle of shame and confusion, my sheets sticking to my thighs, and my head full of his goddamn voice.“Say it. That you want me.”Oh, screw me sideways.The worst part was, it wasn’t even just the physical stuff. I mean, sure, the dream had gotten pretty... intense. But what really messed me up was the way he touched me in it. The way he looked at me—like he kne