Leander blinks, then scoffs. “That’s bullshit. Everyone knows I’ve worked my ass off?—”
“Doesn’t matter what everyone knows!” My voice snaps louder than I mean. “It’s about appearances. About whether people think I’ve been bending the rules for you.”
He stares at me, hurt flashing across his face. “So what, we’re supposed to pretend we’re nothing? You’d rather let them tear us apart than admit we’re real?”
I step closer, low and harsh. “You blindsided me out there, Lee. “
His eyes widen. “I was defending you!”
“Defending me?” I laugh, bitter, sharp. “You practically painted a target on both our backs. You think shouting about us in front of the team makes anything easier? Now Coach is breathing down my neck, the league will be sniffing around, and all anyone will see is the hothead captain sleeping with his linemate.”
Leander’s jaw tightens. “You make it sound like I’m a mistake.”
The words hit me square in the chest, harder than any check I’ve taken on the ice. My throat locks. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t see the pressure crushing me from every side.
“No, never.” I grab his shoulder to make him look at me. “I’m trying to protect you,” I grind out, voice low, almost desperate. “Protect us. But the way you went about it—it trapped me, Lee. Like you decided for both of us.”
Leander’s expression wavers, somewhere between defiance and heartbreak. His hands curl into fists at his sides, but his voice comes out softer. “I just wanted them to see you’re not alone. That you’ve got someone in your corner. I didn’t think it would?—”
“Yeah, well it did.” The words taste like ash, but they come out anyway.
Silence stretches between us, heavy and jagged. He looks away first, blinking hard like he’s holding back something he won’t say.
I drag a hand over my face, chest burning, and turn down the hall before I say something worse.
The parking lot is empty, but the snow crunches under our boots like a ticking clock counting down to disaster. The lightsfrom the rink cast long, jagged shadows across the asphalt, and the cold bites through my coat, but I barely notice.
Leander stands a few feet from me, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders squared. His jaw is tight, lips pressed together like he’s trying to hold in the words before they burst. I can see the heat behind his eyes, the fury simmering under that controlled exterior. It’s the look that used to terrify me, now it makes my chest thrum in ways I can’t stop analyzing.
“Say it, Nix. I would if I were you.” Leander kicks at a block of snow.
No, I need to keep my emotions in check. “There’s nothing more to discuss.”
“Don’t act like you’re the one with reason now. Let me have it.”
“I can’t believe you just… let it happen,” I say finally, voice low, clipped with the residue of the day’s tension. “The fight with Eric. You didn’t think, Lee. You just jumped in.”
He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “And I’m supposed to just let him talk about you like you’re… like you’re some joke? You think I’m going to sit there and listen while he insults you?”
I clench my fists. “I can handle my fights. That’s my job. That’s my responsibility. You don’t get to pick up my battles for me.”
Leander’s laugh is sharp, humorless. “Funny. You used to be the one fighting my battles, and now I can’t fight yours.”
The words hit me like a slap. He’s right. God, he’s right. I should be the one exploding, losing it, making a scene. Not him. Not my rookie. And yet… there’s a flicker of something else in me, buried under the anger. Pride, maybe. Protective instinct. The knowledge that he’d risk everything—his reputation, the team’s respect—just to defend me.
“You don’t understand,” I say, voice tighter now, teeth gritted. “That wasn’t just some guy calling me out. He wastalking aboutyou. About us. About how the team thinks I’m favoring you.”
“I don’t care what they think!” Leander snaps. “Do you? Do you not want to be seen with me?”
I stare at him, heart hammering in my chest. Because I can’t believe he’s asking me this. That he thinks I wouldn’t carve his name into my chest so that he knows I’m his.
“You need to calm down,” I manage finally, voice low, tense. “We can’t just… lose it here. Not like this. Not in front of everyone who’s going to see us.”
He steps closer, the snow crunching beneath him, closing the gap. “You’re tellingmeto calm down?”
I take a step back, trying to put space between us, but my body refuses to comply. It’s like the air itself is magnetized, pulling me closer. “Lee?—”
“No!” he yells, cutting me off. “I’m not apologizing for protecting you. I’m not apologizing for standing up for you. And I’m definitely not apologizing for loving you.”
