Todos los capítulos de Hate On The Ice, Mine In The Dark: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

_Nathan’s POV_ Miles didn’t leave after Theo went to check the annex. He stayed standing near the desk with his hands braced on the back of the chair, head down, breathing like he was counting through the urge to break something. The official message from Rowan still sat face-down on the desk between us, polite enough to make the whole afternoon feel unreal. “You need to stop looking at me like that,” I said. “Like what?” “Like if you stare long enough the rest of the story will fall out of my mouth.” Miles lifted his head. “Will it?” I didn’t answer. He pushed off the chair and crossed the room. Not fast. Not gentle either. When he stopped in front of me, the space between us felt narrower than the room should have allowed. “I’m not asking because I think you wanted him,” he said. “I’m asking because you walked into this dorm looking like someone had put hands on you and then tried to manage me with a summary.” “I told you what you needed.” “You told me what kept me from l

_Nathan’s POV_ Elias called before the staffed meeting had even been finalized on the calendar. I was in the corridor outside the athletic office when his name filled the screen, and the timing alone told me he already knew about the conditions. “Nathan,” he said. “Explain the message you sent regarding process integrity.” “The previous continuity contact was held in an irregular private room. Future contact should remain in staffed conference space with a third party present.” “Should,” Elias repeated, as if the word itself offended him. “You are converting discomfort into procedure.” “I am converting risk into procedure.” A pause, cold and precise. “You will not turn formal cooperation into a negotiation exercise every time King Rowan requests continuity. I accepted a staffed setting for the sake of optical cleanliness. Do not mistake that for permission to build a wall of conditions around your obligations.” “I’m not refusing contact.” “No. You are managing it in a way tha

_Theo’s POV_ By the time the locker room emptied out, Nathan was already gone into the post-game fog of messages and tension he carried around like extra gear. I didn’t follow him. That was becoming its own discipline. Help when it mattered. Don’t become another body in the same fire every single night. Kane had said something like that after the last reception, and I hated that it had stuck. I found him outside the visitors’ tunnel exit, hands in the pockets of a dark jacket, watching the last equipment carts roll toward the loading bay. “Your captain looked ready to put the scoreboard through a wall,” I said. Kane glanced over. “Yours looked ready to disappear into one.” “That tracks.” We stood there a second in the thinning noise of a finished game night. Staff voices. A distant door slam. The leftover cold of arena air drifting out with every opening of the tunnel. “You waiting on Miles?” I asked. “I was. He texted. Said not to.” Kane’s mouth tipped slightly. “Which usua

_Nathan’s POV_ The staffed room looked harmless in the way official places always did. Glass panel to the corridor. Long table. Water bottles set out with impersonal care. A building services staffer visible at the desk down the hall when Theo and I entered. No lock click. No annex quiet. Miles had walked us as far as the waiting area and stopped there only because putting him in the chair would have turned the meeting into a different kind of war. “Remember,” Theo murmured as we sat, “if he shifts personal, I interrupt on process. That’s the whole job.” “I know.” Rowan arrived two minutes later, precisely on time, and smiled as if the conditions pleased him by proving he could thrive under them. “Nathan. Mr. Mercer. Clean room, open door, third party present. We are the picture of integrity.” Theo didn’t offer him a smile back. “Listed purpose only.” “Continuity,” Rowan said, taking his seat. “Of course.” He began with the acceptable surface. Post-game presentation. Public c

_Nathan’s POV_ Saturday arrived without demands attached to it. No formal reminders. No carefully worded requests. Just late morning light through the blinds and Miles stealing the blanket the second I tried to get up. I lay there for a while longer than I needed to, listening to campus wake up outside — distant skateboard wheels, someone yelling about missing laundry tokens, a car door slamming in the lot below. “You’re thinking too loud,” Miles muttered. “I’m thinking about coffee.” “Acceptable.” We got ready slowly. No rush. Miles borrowed my hoodie and didn’t give it back. I let him. Outside, the air was cool enough for jackets and warm enough that the campus paths were already filling with people who had nowhere urgent to be. Kane had chosen the place: a corner café off the main quad with scratched tables and decent food. Theo was already there when we arrived, two chairs tipped back, arguing with Kane about whether the hockey cafeteria pancakes counted as food or a dare.