บททั้งหมดของ ICE AND ARROGANCE : บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

(Kane) The championship series had given us a rare off-night, and I wasn’t going to waste it. I had texted Danica earlier with my heart hammering like it was overtime: “There’s a campus movie presentation tonight. Old hockey documentary under the stars. Nothing fancy. Want to come with me? No pressure. Just… us.” Her reply came faster than I expected: “Yes.” I was ridiculously happy. I waited for her near the edge of campus, away from the main paths and prying eyes. When she appeared, her long straight hair loose and catching the evening light like dark silk, my chest tightened so hard I almost forgot how to breathe. She was beautiful. Dangerously, impossibly beautiful. We walked together to the small outdoor screening area, our hands brushing until I finally took hers. She didn’t pull away. Her fingers intertwined with mine, warm and steady. I held on like it was the most precious thing I’d ever touched. From the way she glanced at our joined hands and then at me, I cou

(Danica) I lay in my room long after the house had gone quiet, the big teddy bear from Kane sitting on the chair across from my bed like a silent witness. The silver necklace he had given me rested cool against my collarbone. I traced the small ice skate charm with my fingertip, my mind spinning between two very different men who had somehow become the center of my world. Kane and Caleb. They couldn’t be more different. With Caleb, everything was intense, commanding, and physical. He didn’t woo me with flowers or soft words. He acquired me. He taught me how to express emotions and feelings through sex — raw, honest, and consuming. In the stolen moments through the thin walls, he would pin me down with that possessive grip, his mouth on my neck, his body teaching mine how to let go. There were no gentle courtships, no hesitant texts. Caleb took what he wanted and made me feel every inch of it. He showed me the power of surrendering to the fire between us. With him, it felt l

(Caleb) The locker room was loud after practice, the guys still riding the high of our latest win in the series. I had been quiet most of the session, my mind elsewhere. The rejection from Danica the other night still stung. Kane’s wooing was changing her, and I didn’t know how to fight it. So I did something I never thought I would. I cleared my throat as the team started changing. “Hey. I need advice.” The room went quiet. Riot raised an eyebrow. Liam grinned like he already knew something was up. “How do you court a girl?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “Not just… take her. But actually woo her. Flowers, dates, the whole thing. What works?” The guys exchanged looks, then exploded with laughter and suggestions. Liam leaned forward, smirking. “Whoa, Captain’s finally asking for romance tips? Who’s the lucky girl? Is it that law student everyone’s talking about? Hannah Simpson? The overall President of the Supreme Student Council? She’s beautiful, smart, and way out of

(Danica)The silence of my room was heavy, thick with the lingering tension of a day that refused to end. I finally collapsed onto my mattress, the familiar comfort of the sheets doing little to settle the storm inside me. Every muscle ached”a physical manifestation of the mental toll the past few weeks had taken. My head throbbed in time with the distant, rhythmic hum of the facilitys ventilation, a sound I usually found soothing but which now felt like a taunting reminder of the pressure we were all under.The locker room interaction played on a loop in my mind. Calebs blunt, probing question about courting”the way his gaze had burned into me, expecting an answer I wasn't ready to give”had left me raw. The hurt in my chest wasn't a sharp pain, but a dull, persistent ache, like an old injury that hadn't quite healed. I pulled the covers up to my chin, turning onto my side and burying my face in the pillow. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted the exhaustion to swallow the confusion, to

(Caleb) The air inside the arena was thick with the scent of frozen water, sweat, and pure, unadulterated tension. Practice for Game 7 wasn’t just intense; it felt like a pressure cooker waiting to blow. The entire season—all the midnight practices, the bruised ribs, the grueling road trips—culminated in the next sixty minutes of hockey. There was absolutely no room for error. If we slipped up now, we went home with nothing but regrets. I pushed the guys hard, my voice echoing off the empty rafters as I barked out drill changes. We were refining the joker play, the unorthodox tactical shift that had saved our skins and allowed us to claw our way back to a victory in Game 6. It relied on absolute synchronization, and right at the center of that synchronization was Danica. She was floating between the lines, transitioning from offense to defense with a seamless, lethal precision. She executed her role perfectly, a ghost on skates that the defense couldn’t pin down. But despite t