All Chapters of Owned on the Ice M/M Romance: Chapter 411 - Chapter 420

Jamie had managed to avoid Max for two whole weeks.He’d arranged it that way.The day after the party, he’d emailed Larsson claiming he wanted to “observe remotely” for a few days, citing coursework and editing deadlines. Larsson had responded with a single line: As long as you don’t miss the exhibition.Jamie had learned quickly that an ‘exhibition’, as Larsson called it, was essentially a pre‑season scrimmage dressed up for optics. It didn’t count toward standings. It didn’t matter on paper. It was a chance to test new lines, shake out rookies, try systems against an outside opponent without consequence. A rehearsal before the real curtain lifted.He attended the exhibition because he had to. One week after the party at the Wolf Den, he sat high in the stands with his camera, filmed every shift, every line change, every awkward fumble and promising connection. He took meticulous notes. He asked Zach questions afterward in the corridor about defensive adjustments and ice time distri

Northbridge pushed hard after the goal, the energy on the ice sharpening into something almost frantic, but the Direwolves held their ground. Dane returned for the final stretch, steady and composed, and when the buzzer finally sounded with the scoreboard reading 5–3, the arena erupted all over again.They’d won.And Max had scored a goalie goal in his first appearance of the season.The tunnel area dissolved into noise as players streamed off the ice. Jamie packed up on autopilot, coiling cords, sliding spare batteries into their pouch, forcing his breathing to level out.This was his job.He had to switch gears.By the time he reached the locker room corridor, it was already chaos. Reporters clustered near the entrance. Teammates were half-dressed, shouting over one another, replaying the shot in exaggerated pantomime.“Did you see his face?”“From his own end, man!”“Goalie goal! That’s insane!”Larsson stood a little apart from the commotion, beaming in a way Jamie had never seen

Jamie swallowed.He dragged his eyes back down to his notebook before he could say something reckless.“Fine,” he said, a little sharper than intended. “You launched the puck from your own crease. Walk me through the decision. Were you aiming for the empty net, or were you just trying to clear it?”Max’s expression shifted, less teasing now, more reflective.“I saw their goalie heading off late,” he said. “Bench was yelling. I had a second. Maybe two. I figured if I got enough lift, it might at least burn time.” A small shrug. “Didn’t think it would track that clean.”Jamie scribbled quickly, grateful for the normalcy of it. “So you were aware the net was empty?”“Yeah.” Max’s gaze didn’t leave him. “But I wasn’t thinking history. I was thinking don’t ice it and don’t screw this up.”Jamie nodded, finishing the last line in his notebook before looking up.Max tilted his head slightly.“My turn.”Jamie’s stomach dipped.“What do you do in your free time?” Max asked casually.Jamie blin

Max didn’t move at first.His face went blank.“What…” His voice came out low. Controlled. “The fuck are you doing?”Jamie had never been so relieved in his life.And never so humiliated.His face was pressed to the desk. His arm wrenched high. His cheek burning where it scraped wood. He must look pathetic. Weak. Small.And Max was seeing him like this.Dane shifted behind him.“Relax, Sullivan,” Dane said, voice casual. “Media was pissing me off. Just messing around.”The pressure on Jamie’s neck eased. His arm was released abruptly, and he nearly collapsed before catching himself on shaking hands.“Isn’t that right, kid?” Dane added.Jamie tried to straighten.His legs wouldn’t cooperate.They trembled so violently he almost dropped back down. He pushed himself upright halfway, leaning hard against the wall beside the desk, trying to make it look like a choice, like he just needed the space.His shoulder throbbed.His lungs still wouldn’t pull in enough air.“Yeah,” he managed, thou

Max didn’t know whether he was angrier at Dane… or at himself.The engine growled softly as he pulled out of the rink parking lot, his knuckles white around the steering wheel.He’d always thought Dane had a shitty sense of humor. Crude jokes. Locker‑room trash talk. The kind of stuff that made people roll their eyes but shrug it off.Not that he was a fucking monster.Max’s jaw tightened as the image replayed whether he wanted it to or not.Jamie bent over the desk. Dane’s hand at the back of his neck. Jamie’s voice, small and terrified in a way Max had never heard before and never wanted to hear again.His grip on the wheel tightened another fraction.If Jamie hadn’t begged him not to say anything, Max would already be in Larsson’s office.Hell, he might not be able to keep himself from doing it anyway.But if he couldn’t tell the coach… Then he was going to crush Dane himself.The thought simmered in his chest.Beside him, Jamie sat curled into the passenger seat. Clutching his bag