Todos los capítulos de Skating on Thin Ice : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

POV: Jeffery My skin is still tingling. Like, actually on fire. Every time I move, the friction against my jeans makes me want to groan out loud. My hair is still a little damp from the shower. We barely survived, and my muscles ache in the best, most embarrassing way possible. I kept reliving the way Roland’s hands felt on my skin, the heavy heat of his body pressing me into the tiled wall, and the way he moaned my name so loudly. And now we are sitting in the back of a black SUV, speeding through the city at midnight like nothing happened. The streetlights streak past the window in long blurs of yellow and white. It is quiet in here, except for the low, steady sound of the engine and Roland’s voice. Roland is sitting right next to me, taking up way too much space on the leather seat. His broad shoulders are tense, and he’s holding his phone up to his ear. He’s back in his black designer hoodie, looking totally cool and collected, like he didn’t just wreck me twenty minutes ago. “I

Jeffery’s POVI sat on that padded chair next to Roland, doing everything I could not to fidget like a nervous wreck. My manager, Mr. Brown, had made it crystal clear before we stepped onto the stage: keep your mouth shut unless someone asks you a direct question, smile for the cameras, and look like a solid team player. That sounded simple enough. But sitting here under these blinding white lights while my whole body was still spinning from everything that happened in the apartment was making my heart pound against my ribs.My knees were practically shaking under the long table covered with a blue cloth. Less than twenty minutes ago, we were standing naked under the hot water in his bathroom, breathing fast, so close to losing our minds and throwing everything away. My skin was still warm from that shower. My hair was barely dry. I could still feel the phantom touch of his hands on my hips. And now, here we were, sitting side by side in front of thirty shouting reporters with camera

Jeffery's POVThe biting cold from the wooden bench bit right through my thick team trousers, making me pull my legs in close to stop shivering. I pulled the heavy team jacket tighter around my shoulders, tucking my hands deep into my pockets. The air inside the arena was freezing, sharp enough to hurt my throat every time I took a breath. All around me on the rink, heavy rubber skates cut through the ice, echoing off the high ceiling with the loud thud of pucks hitting the boards.I couldn't stop thinking about what happened in the car, in the press room, and in that steamy bathroom back at the hotel. My skin still felt hot under my heavy clothes, like the memory of Roland’s hands was burning right through me. Just an hour ago, he was looking at me like I was the only person in the world, holding me close while news cameras flashed. Now, sitting on this cold bench all alone, I felt tiny and out of place.Practice was a total blur of fast drills, loud whistles, and coaches shouting

Jeffery’s POVThe sudden noise of the heavy wooden bench scraping against the floor echoed loudly in my ears, but I didn’t care who turned around to look at me. I couldn’t sit there for another second watching her hand wrapped around his arm like that. My legs moved before my brain could even process what I was doing. I turned my back on the ice, stepping away from the glass barrier with my heart pounding violently against my ribs. I didn’t look back at Roland. I didn’t look at Coach or any of the guys on the team. I couldn’t risk seeing his face, and I definitely couldn’t handle seeing her smile again. All I knew was that the cold air inside that freezing arena had suddenly turned completely poisonous, choking me from the inside out. My throat was so tight I could barely swallow, and every instinct in my body was screaming at me to run as far as I could.My boots hit the thick rubber mats near the bench with heavy, hurried thuds. A couple of staff members standing nearby turned thei

POV: JefferyMy question hung in the cold air between us like a heavy cloud. It felt like I had pulled the pin out of a live grenade and dropped it right onto the hard locker room floor. I stood there, my chest rising and falling fast, my breathing loud and ragged in the quiet space. The bright lights overhead buzzed quietly, casting a harsh glare across the pale bench and damp rubber floor. The smell of cold ice, dried sweat, and fresh leather filled my nose. I was standing there completely exposed, raw, and terrified for him to see all my secrets.I stared directly into Roland’s cold blue eyes, waiting for the hit. I expected him to yell at me. I expected him to pull away in complete disgust, or get angry because I had been listening to his private phone conversations like a spy in the night. Part of me expected to see guilt cross his face, proving my worst fears true. I prepared myself for the crushing pain of hearing him confirm another person in his life. I had no defense left.