“I told you I wouldn’t fight.” I traced the edge of his collarbone through his shirt. “And now we’ve got a championship to win this weekend.”
“So you actually listened to me for once.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
A real grin broke across his face. “We’re going to win this thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The whole thing.” He smoothed his palm over my shoulder, down to my elbow, like he was checking I was still solid. “And then we geteverything. No more hiding in stairwells. No more looking over our shoulders or keeping apart in public. Just us.”
The way he said it with so much certainty, it was as though he’d already seen the final buzzer and the scoreboard.
It was the best thing I’d heard all day. Not in the way that knocked the wind out of me, but in the way that made everything I’d been bracing against feel unnecessary.
I’d spent years waiting for the next hit. The next phone call. The next disaster that proved I didn’t belong. But when Karter said ‘everything’, I believed him.
Sliding both hands to his waist, I let my thumbs press into the dip above his hips. The stairwell draft drifted through the landing, cold air slipping under the fire door, but I didn’t feel it. Didn’t feel anything except the worn cotton of his shirt and the solid weight of him still breathing hard from our kiss.
Chapter 27 - Karter
The Cold Quartet championship final had ground to a 2-2 tie with four minutes left on the clock. My legs were shot, my lungs burned, and a tough shift had wrung every last drop from my muscles. Forty-eight hours of waiting and one sleepless night between games had only made it worse.
Matt dropped onto the bench beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched. Two weeks ago he’d been sleeping in other people’s rooms to avoid catching whatever he acted like I was carrying. Now his elbow knocked against mine as if the rumors had never happened.
“Are you good, man?”
“Yeah.” Breathing hard, I rested my forearms on my knees. “Just need a second.”
Aleksey was still out on the ice, throwing his body into every check. Shoving guys off the puck, he cleared a space for our forwards like he’d been doing all night.
Elliot leaned over from two spots down. “Next shift, Karter. We need a push.”
“I’m ready.”
Coach barked a line change. I went over the boards and my skates bit into the scarred ice, white gashes crisscrossing the surface, just as the puck squirted loose at center ice.
The goalie sat too deep in his crease. And the defenseman was flat-footed at the blue line. But the rink told me everything I needed without thinking, though.
Across the zone, Aleksey had his man pinned against the boards, forearms braced on his stick, shoulders rigid. That tight line of his spine was a command as loud as a shout.
Two periods of cheap shots, and he hadn’t dropped his gloves once. But that kind of discipline cost him. I’d watched him take cross-checks and slashes from the opposing team the whole game, but he just skated away. He’d kept his word to me, and now the game balanced on this shift.
Sweat rolled down my back, and my quads burned, but I tightened my grip and locked onto the puck.
Aleksey glanced over from the blue line. No nod, no signal, just a half-second hold that saidgo. After months of hiding behind locked doors, we didn’t need words on the ice. The play was already forming in my head before it developed.
The puck hit my stick.Breakaway.
There was no time to think. I skated hard, faked left, and the defenseman lunged. A quick drag to my forehand and I snapped the puck into the top corner.
The goal horn blared as red lights flashed behind the net. My teammates swarmed me against the glass, shouting something I couldn’t hear over the noise. Gloves pounded my helmet, but the celebration was just noise and bodies. I twisted through the pile, searching.
Aleksey was still at the blue line, helmet shoved back, chest heaving as our eyes locked.
Seconds later, Coach barked a defensive change. I dropped back onto the bench, legs still burning as I got sidelined for the final three minutes of the game. The other team pulled their goalie for an extra skater. Every second seemed to drag.
Two minutes left. All we had to do was survive.
