Kayden

Something was seriously wrong with Rhys. I could feel it in every little thing he did out there tonight. The way his shoulders stayed tense even after we won, the slight shake in his hands when he gripped his stick, the way his skates seemed to drag across the ice like they were carrying more than just his weight.

And then there was how he had snapped at me during the shootout like he was trying to shove me away instead of letting me in.

I knew him well enough by now to recognize when he was unraveling, even if he refused to admit it.

I had seen him talking to Damian Fernandez on the ice earlier. Their conversation looked intense, the kind that carried weight, but when I asked about it, Rhys shut it down fast. He wanted us to focus on the game, so I backed off and poured everything into playing. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Now that the final buzzer had sounded and we had pulled off the win in that chaotic shootout, all I wanted was to get him alone and hear what was really going on inside his head.

But we weren’t talking. Not really.

After the way he had raised his voice at me, telling me to drop it with that harsh edge I rarely heard from him, I decided to give him the space he seemed to need. Pushing him right now would only make things worse.

Rhys had always hated failure more than almost anything else in the world — maybe even more than his grandfather and the shadow that man cast over his life.

Losing those last two games back-to-back had clearly been eating at him, wearing him down until his usual steady confidence started cracking at the edges.

While the rest of the team was losing their minds in celebration on the ice, shouting Luca’s name and lifting him onto their shoulders like he had just scored the game-winner in the finals, I kept my eyes on Rhys.

I waited for him to glance my way, to skate over with that tired but genuine smile of his and tell me he was okay.

Wishful thinking. All I got was silence and distance.

Instead, I watched him turn his head toward the left side of the rink where the Southbridge Falcons were gathered near their bench. His gaze locked onto Damian Fernandez, and Damian stared right back with an intensity that made my stomach twist.

Then Damian’s lips moved. I caught the words easily — I’ve always been good at reading lips from years of playing in loud arenas where coaches yelled instructions over the roar of the crowd.

"I miss you."

At first I thought I must have misread it. The noise, the lights, the adrenaline still pumping through me — it could play tricks.

But Damian repeated it, slower this time, clear enough that there was no mistaking the shape of his mouth.

I shifted my attention back to Rhys, studying his reaction. He didn’t look away. Not even for a second. There was this heavy, charged moment hanging between them, the kind of lingering stare that spoke volumes without a single word being spoken out loud.

Damian’s expression... it was the same one I had seen on Rhys’s face so many times when we were alone together.

That quiet mix of hunger, affection, and something deeper that always made my chest feel tight in the best way. Wanting. Lust mixed with something softer. Seeing it directed at someone else — especially Damian — sent a cold jolt through me.

What the hell was happening between them? Or maybe the better question was, what the hell had already happened between them in the past?

Before I could spiral any further, Jaxson’s voice broke through the chaos beside me. "Hey."

I jumped, startled because I had been so locked in on that exchange across the ice that everything else had faded into the background.

I tore my eyes away from Rhys and Damian to look at Jaxson, who was watching me with a mix of concern and curiosity.

"You seemed pretty agitated," he said, raising an eyebrow as he adjusted his gloves.

I pulled off my helmet, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair before scratching the back of my head. I forced a laugh that I hoped sounded convincing. "Nah, I’m good. Just happy we won, still riding that high, you know? Adrenaline’s crazy after a shootout like that."

Jaxson didn’t look entirely convinced, but he grinned anyway and slung an arm around my shoulders, giving me a rough, brotherly shake. "Come on then, let’s go wave at the fans before they think we’re too cool for them." He started pulling me toward the boards where the crowd was still cheering and chanting our names.

I didn’t fight it. I let him guide me along, joining the rest of the team as we skated closer to the glass and waved at the sea of Northern Avalanche jerseys filling the stands. But no matter how loud the fans got, my mind kept drifting back to that moment between Rhys and Damian. The way they had looked at each other wasn’t just casual rivalry.

There was history there, thick and unresolved, and it was gnawing at me.

Why else would Damian say he missed him like that, right there in the middle of everything? The curiosity was burning hotter now, making it hard to focus on anything else.

While fans screamed my name and waved signs with my number on them, my responses stayed brief — just quick lifts of my hand and tight smiles that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

I kept scanning the ice for Rhys, needing to see where he was, what he was doing.

Then I spotted him. He was skating away from the celebration, heading toward the tunnel that led off the main rink. Alone.

Where was he going?

"Someone brought a Valder banner! Look at this thing!" Jaxson called out suddenly, trying to pull my attention back. He pointed toward a large, homemade banner being held up by a group of fans in the front row. It had both our faces on it, photoshopped or AI-generated to show us kissing.

It looked eerily realistic, the kind of thing that would have made me laugh or blush on any other night. But tonight? I barely looked at it.

My eyes stayed fixed on Rhys as he disappeared into the tunnel.

The curiosity was turning into something sharper, more insistent. It probably made me sound like a paranoid stalker, trailing after him like this, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to know.

Sometimes curiosity dragged you into doing the craziest, most impulsive things.

"If you’ll excuse me," I muttered under my breath, already breaking away from Jaxson and skating after Rhys. I ignored the way he called out after me, something about flowers and a card with my face on it.

"See? These flowers even have a little card attached with your picture!" Jaxson shouted, but I was already halfway across the ice, the noise of the crowd fading behind me as I entered the tunnel.

I kept my distance, staying far enough back that he wouldn’t notice me if he glanced over his shoulder. I assumed he was heading straight for the locker room to decompress after the game, but instead of making the left turn that would take us there, he turned right, following the corridor that led out to the private parking lot reserved for players and staff.

What the hell is he doing out here? I thought, slowing my steps as I watched him step out into the dimly lit lot and stop near the center, standing alone under one of the overhead lights.

A few moments later, the low rumble of an engine echoed through the space. A sleek red Ferrari pulled in smoothly, its headlights cutting across the concrete.

I pressed myself against the wall in a shadowed corner, thankful there weren’t many other cars parked this late. It made it easy to see without being seen.

The driver’s door opened and someone stepped out.

Rhys was partially blocking my line of sight at first, so I leaned forward a little, heart picking up speed. Then I saw him clearly — Damian Fernandez. He was still wearing his Southbridge Falcons jersey, but he had already ditched the gloves and skates, looking far too comfortable for someone who had just lost in a shootout.

Damian walked right up to Rhys and leaned in close, whispering something I couldn’t quite catch from this distance. Whatever it was, it didn’t land well.

Rhys’s whole body tensed. He shoved Damian backward with both hands, hard enough that the other man stumbled a step. "What the hell do you think you’re doing!" Rhys yelled, his voice echoing sharply off the concrete walls. He raised his hands again, pushing at Damian’s chest in frustration.

Damian grabbed his wrists to stop him. "Let go of me!" Rhys shouted, struggling against the hold until he managed to yank free.

In the next breath, he had Damian pinned back against the side of the Ferrari, breathing hard.

"Don’t try to act like you have some kind of power over me!" Rhys snapped, his voice low and angry. "I’m the alpha here. You’re just some beta."

Damian let out a low chuckle, sounding almost amused instead of threatened. His eyes scanned the parking lot lazily... and then they locked directly onto the corner where I was hiding.

I jerked back fast, pressing myself flatter against the wall, my pulse hammering in my ears. He had seen me.

But I could still hear Damian chuckle again, softer this time. "I truly miss you," he said, loud enough for it to carry through the lot so I could hear. "And I wish we could talk properly."

"I don’t," Rhys shot back, his tone sharp and final. "We ended things years ago, so get the hell out of my life. And may the best team take the Cup!"

Their voices dropped after that, turning into muffled conversation that I couldn’t piece together no matter how hard I strained.

A car door slammed. Then the Ferrari’s engine roared to life, growing louder for a moment before it started to fade as the car pulled away.

I waited a few seconds, then cautiously peeked out again, using my helmet as a makeshift shield to hide most of my face in case anyone was still looking.

When my eyes focused on the spot where Rhys and Damian had been standing just moments ago, the lot was empty.

No Rhys. No red Ferrari. Just the quiet hum of the overhead lights and the distant roar of the celebrating crowd still echoing from inside the arena.

They were both gone.