Page 53 of Top Shelf

She laughs. Fuckinglaughsat whatever he said to her.

It’s soft, cautious, like she’s unused to doing it, and I hate that it’s being wasted on a sleazeball like Isaac Evans. He’s a manwhore. The teamplayer. And his cocky-as-fuck attitude with mediocre talent has rubbed me the wrong way since day fucking one.

I forget about the ice. Forget about control. My knuckles go white around my stick as I watch the vomit-inducing scene unfold.

Coach’s whistle blast calls for a line change, quicklyfollowed by Ronan bellowing, “Evans! Stop hitting on the intern and line up.”

Evans tosses Wren a wink—mywink, the one onlyI’mallowed to use—before he skates over.

The smirk he shoots me on the way by?

Yeah. That does it.

We run another drill—a breakout into a three-on-two push—and Evans is on the ice with me. Great. Perfect.Fucking phenomenal.

He skates just ahead of me, showboating with sloppy dekes he thinks look cool. Every few seconds, he cuts his eyes toward the bench where Wren stands, clipboard hugged to her chest. Needing attention. Needing fucking validation.

From her.

And she…she’s watching.

Not smiling this time but still watching. Which is enough.

The ice beneath me feels like it’s vibrating. Or maybe that’s the rage coursing through my blood.

Evans slows up on purpose when the puck swings his way—one-handing his stick like a clown, swagger turned up to eleven. He doesn’t even try to play it clean. He toe-drags the puck between his legs, fakes a spin, then whiffs the shot entirely.

The puck clatters off his skate.

He shrugs, throws his hands in the air like he meant to do it, then drops to one knee like he’s proposing to the crowd.

“Was that for the highlight reel?” someone jeers.

Laughter bubbles up across the team, but it’s hers that cuts through the noise. I hear it even with my helmet on. Even through the blood pulsing dangerously in my ears.

And I see fucking red.

Evans grins like he’s just scored the game-winner. Milking every second of having the attention on him as he tips his stick in her direction.

She shakes her head, still smiling shyly.

That’s what does it. That’s what sends me over the fucking edge. I literally hear the snap of the leash on my restraint as I drop low. The only thing I give a damn about is erasing that smug fucking smile from Isaac Evans’s face and the sound of her laughing athim.

Eyes set on him, I launch myself forward, the blades beneath my feet slicing through the ice as though it were butter.

CRASH.

I slam into Evans with everything I have. Shoulder to ribs. Timing perfect. Violence pure. The impact carries us both into the boards with earth-shattering force. Glass explodes around us, raining down in glittering shards, sharp and gleaming. Evans flips over the boards, legs flying, before landing with a satisfying thud and anoomphon the other side.

He collapses like a fucking lawn chair, clutching his side and groaning like a pussy, surrounded by shards of plexiglass. Blood beads along his cheek where a piece of glass nicked him.Oopsies.

He groans.

I smile, victorious.

Ronan is on me in two seconds, shoving me back with both hands.

“What the fuck was that?!” he snaps.