Off the Ice
Jaxson led him straight to the private locker alcove, where the low bench sat beneath a single, wire-caged fluorescent bulb.
He didn't wait for Liam to sit. Jaxson reached for the hem of the oversized gray hoodie and hauled it over Liam's head in one swift, commanding motion, tossing it onto the wooden bench. Stripped down to the tight black training vest, Liam stood shivering slightly in the nineteen-degree air of the bunker, his pale skin contrasting sharply with the thick, black athletic tape wrapping his shoulder.