I try. I really do. But the anger keeps bubbling. “You should’ve ripped into them today. You should’ve told them to knock their shit off.”
“I know.” His thumbs brush over the line of my collarbones, steady. “But screaming doesn’t fix this. Not this time.”
I shake my head. “So what? We just let them walk all over us? Let the world call you every name under the sun?”
“No.” His eyes catch mine, sharp even in the dim light. “We get smart.”
I freeze, breathing ragged.
Phoenix squeezes my shoulders. “You don’t fight poison with fire. You fight it with trust. With unity. If they’re going to treat you like an outsider, then we remind them you’re not.”
I frown. “How?”
“We’ll host a team party. Before the championship.”
The words hang in the air, unexpected.
I blink. “A party?”
He nods, calm as if this whole plan has already unfolded in his head. “Here. Our place. Food, music, whatever. They need tosee you outside the rink, see that you’re not just… the rookie who got tangled up with his captain. You’re one of them.”
I let the idea sink in. My pulse is still pounding, but slower now. “You think that’ll work?”
“I think it can’t hurt.” A small smile curves his mouth. “And it’s better than decking Eric again.”
Despite myself, a laugh slips out—short and bitter at first, then warmer. He always knows how to cut through the storm.
Phoenix tilts his head, studying me. “Feel better?”
“Not really.” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “I still feel like I’m going to explode.”
His smile sharpens into something dangerous. Something playful. “Then use it.”
I blink at him. “What?”
“Use it on me.” His grip slides from my shoulders down to my arms, fingers pressing into my muscle. “All that anger. All that aggression. Put it where it counts.”
Heat flares through me, sudden and overwhelming.
Phoenix leans close, his breath brushing my ear. “You want to prove to yourself you’re not weak and naive? That you’re not some rookie who lucked into my bed?” His teeth graze the edge of my jaw. “Show me.”
I swallow hard. My body answers before my brain does, blood rushing south, skin prickling with electricity.
“You just want to be fucked,” I manage, but my voice is already rough.
He grins, all sharp edges and mischief. “Maybe. But I bet I can take whatever you’ve got left in you.”
And just like that, the rage that’s been choking me all day shifts. Turns molten, hungry.
Phoenix always knows how to redirect me—on the ice, in life, in this. Where I see fire, he sees fuel.
I fist a hand in his shirt, pulling him closer until our foreheads nearly touch. “Don’t tempt me, Locke.”
“Who said it’s temptation?” His smirk is wicked. “I’m begging for it.”
The laugh that rips out of me is wild, reckless, exactly what I need. And for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe again.
Phoenix’s grin is still sharp on his lips, taunting me, daring me, and I can’t take it anymore.
