All Chapters of Collision on Ice: Chapter 61 - Chapter 68

Roselle's POV The apartment was too quiet. The hum of the refrigerator sounded loud again, like an engine running in an empty room, but I barely noticed it.I stood there with my hands flat against the cotton of his shirt, feeling the slow, heavy thud of his heart underneath my palms. Jace was looking down at me like he expected me to step back. Like he thought the pieces of his life he had just laid out were sharp enough to cut anyone who got too close.He didn’t know me at all if he thought that was going to scare me off.My mind was racing, trying to process the sheer scale of what he had just handed over. A man who didn’t want him. A mother who fought tooth and nail to keep them afloat all on her own. A last name he chose for himself just to strip away any connection to a ghost. It wasn’t just a sad family history; it was a fortress Jace had built around himself, brick by heavy brick, to make sure nobody could ever hurt him the way h

Roselle's POV The rain had started up again by the time I walked back to Jace’s apartment, a cold, heavy drizzle soaking through the shoulders of my coat before I made it past the lobby doors. I shook out my umbrella in the entryway, kicking off my wet boots and listening for the usual sounds telling me he was home.Usually, after a game, the place had a certain predictable rhythm. Even if he was tired, Jace would already be moving around the kitchen, tossing together something high-protein or scrolling through game tape on his laptop, the TV playing low in the background. But tonight, the apartment was completely silent. The only light coming from inside was the pale, ghostly blue glow of the television screen bouncing off the living room walls.I walked quietly down the hall, dropping my bag on the couch. Jace was sitting dead center on the cushions, still wearing his gray university hoodie and sweatpants. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the overhe

Roselle's POV “If Coach yells about the slot one more time, his veins are going to burst right through his forehead.” Julian dropped his voice an octave into a gravelly, furious register, hunching his shoulders forward and slapping his hand against the formica table. “You give them an inch, they take the slot. Play your game, move the puck fast, and keep your heads up or I am running suicides until Christmas.”Mia choked on her soda. Chloe snorted so hard she nearly spilled her milkshake across the table.Even Jace, who had been sitting quiet and stiff beside me all night, let out a short, genuine laugh. He shoved Julian gently with his elbow and shook his head. “Shut up. You look like an idiot when you do that.”“I look like a man who has sat through three years of trauma,” Julian shot back, grinning as he grabbed a fry from the center basket.We were crammed deep into the back booth of the diner three blocks off campus. The air smelled like fried onions, cheap coffee, and whatever

Roselle's POV The locker room hallway smelled of wet rubber and linoleum cleaner, but up here in the stands, the air was just freezing. I pulled my heavy wool scarf tighter around my throat, rubbing my palms together inside my pockets as I watched the players skate their warm-up laps down on the ice. The arena was loud, filled with the usual roar of students and the sharp, echoing crack of sticks hitting pucks, but none of it felt real to me tonight.My eyes were locked on number nine.Jace was doing a drill near the blue line, cutting hard on his edges and firing wrist shots toward the goalie’s glove side. He looked the same as he always did to anyone else in the crowd,tall, fast, and completely dialed into the game. But I had spent enough months learning the exact set of his shoulders to see the invisible armor he was forcing himself to wear. Every movement was too tight, too controlled. He wasn’t just warming up for a conference game tonight. He was getting ready to walk onto a b