All Chapters of Off the Ice: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

The weight of Jaxson’s massive body vanished instantly as he scrambled backward on the ice. He swore loudly, his blades cutting deep, ragged gashes into the surface as he stood up. He looked down at Liam, his dark eyes a volatile mix of shock and fury, before snapping his head toward the arena gate where Sarah was standing."A what?" Jaxson’s voice boomed through the empty rafters. "Tell me you're joking, Sarah."Liam pushed himself up onto his elbows, his breath still ragged. The cold from the ice was finally soaking through his thin training pants, making his skin sting, but the heat flashing across his face was pure humiliation. He brushed the ice shavings off his sweater, trying to maintain a shred of dignity as he glided back to his feet. His waist still tingled where Jaxson’s heavy hockey gloves had clamped down onto his skin."I wish I were joking," Sarah said. She stepped through the gate, her heels clicking sharply against the rubber mats. She held out her iPad, the bright sc

The morning sun hit the penthouse like a spotlight, reflecting blindingly off the polished marble floors.Liam woke up with a sharp jolt, his muscles stiff from the uncompromising frame of the leather sofa. For a terrifying three seconds, he didn't know where he was. Then, the heavy scent of cedar wood and expensive cologne anchored him. He was still wrapped tightly in Jaxson’s velvet duvet.He threw the blanket off like it had suddenly caught fire. Standing up, he stretched his aching back, his stomach letting out another loud, demanding rumble.Before he could even check his phone, the heavy master bedroom door swung open.Jaxson stepped out, completely dressed in a sharp, tailored black suit that made his broad shoulders look impossibly wide. His dark hair was styled back perfectly, and he was buttoning his cuffs with a cold, focused precision. He didn't look like a rough hockey player anymore; he looked like a high-profile executive.He didn't even glance at Liam as he walked into

The whistle blew, its sharp, shrill ring echoing off the rafters of the Horizon Center."Alright, gentlemen!" Coach Miller shouted, clapping his hands together as the team skated toward the center circle. "For the next hour, this ice belongs to Coach Vance. The front office wants agility, edge work, and speed. So wrap your heads around it and pay attention."A low murmur passed through the rows of black-and-gold jerseys. Liam stood near the center dot, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture rigid and commanding. He had traded his cream sweater for a sleek, fitted black athletic jacket that zipped tightly up to his throat. On his feet were his pristine white figure skates, their specialized freestyle blades catching the bright overhead stadium lights.Standing right at the front of the pack, leaning heavily on his hockey stick, was Jaxson.The captain’s dark hair was wild and damp with sweat from their early warm-ups. His dark eyes locked onto Liam, tracking the smooth, effortles

The elevator ride up to the penthouse was dead silent, but the air inside the mirrored glass cabin felt heavy enough to choke on.The moment the doors slid open, Jaxson didn't say a word. He stepped out into the dark foyer, ripped off his charcoal suit jacket, and tossed it carelessly onto the sofa. He unknotted his tie with a sharp, impatient tug, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle violently twitched beneath his stubble.Liam stepped out after him, his hand unconsciously rubbing his own wrist—right where he had held Jaxson back at the restaurant. "Jaxson? Are you even listening to me? You almost ruined everything tonight. If Marcus had provoked you any further—""I need a drink," Jaxson interrupted, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. He didn't look at Liam. He couldn't. Every time he glanced at the smaller man, all he could see was the way the midnight-blue silk shirt draped over Liam's collarbones, and the memory of how perfectly Liam's smaller hand had locked into his under the table.