Owned on the Ice M/M Romance
But Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that Belmont’s piercing gaze lingered just a little longer on him.
Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe it was the heat of being evaluated.
Maybe it was something else.
His turn wrapped, and Noah moved to the side to towel off, catching his breath. The heavily tattooed defenseman he’d noticed earlier sat nearby, and without lifting his head, offered Noah a bottle of water.
"That was impressive," the guy said, his voice gravelly but not unfriendly. "Ashton Graves. People call me Ash."
Noah took the bottle. "Thanks. You didn’t look too bad out there yourself."