CHAPTER 11

BLADES & BREAKAWAYS

Chapter 11: Push & Pull

Ryker Hayes' POV

The rink is empty.

I should have left an hour ago, but something keeps me here, pacing near the boards, gripping my hockey stick like it holds the answers I can't figure out.

Blake is still on the ice.

He hasn't spoken since I gave him my jacket last night. Not really. Just quiet nods, clipped words, tension thick enough to choke on. But he's still here, skating smooth, effortless circles like he's trying to outrun something.

I exhale sharply and lean against the boards. This is a mistake. Staying here, watching him, wanting something I don't know how to name.

Blake slows to a stop near center ice, his gaze catching mine in the reflection of the plexiglass.

"You planning to actually skate, or just stand there sulking all night?" His voice is sharp, but there's something underneath it. A challenge.

I grip my stick harder. "I don't sulk."

Blake lets out a short laugh, turning to face me fully. "Right. You just brood dramatically in the shadows."

I scowl. "What do you want, Sinclair?"

Blake tilts his head, expression unreadable. "I want to see if you can keep up."

Before I can respond, Blake pushes off, gliding backward with impossible ease, eyes locked on me like he's daring me to follow.

And because I'm a stubborn idiot-I do.

It's not a real routine. Just movement.

Blake leads at first, guiding us into a slow, circling rhythm. I mirror him, my hockey skates heavier, less refined, but I keep up. Our bodies move in sync, an unspoken understanding in the way our edges carve into the ice.

For the first time in days, it feels easy.

Until it doesn't.

Blake reaches for me-an instinctive motion, a bridge between us-and my breath catches. My body locks up for just a second.

Blake notices.

The moment shatters.

I stumble back, breaking the flow, breaking everything.

Blake skates to a stop, his expression sharp and unreadable. "Unbelievable."

"Blake-"

"Don't," Blake snaps, stepping closer. "Don't do this thing where you act like nothing happened. Like you didn't kiss me, like you don't look at me like you-" He cuts himself off, jaw tightening.

My pulse hammers. "It's not that simple."

Blake lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. "It is, actually. You just don't want to deal with it."

"I don't know what to do with this, okay?" The words rip out of me before I can stop them.

It's the first honest thing I've said in weeks.

Blake exhales, some of the anger fading from his expression. His voice drops, softer but just as cutting. "Then figure it out. Because I'm not waiting forever."

He doesn't give me a chance to respond.

He just skates away, leaving me standing there, heart pounding, hands curled into fists.

I don't leave the rink right away.

I should. I should walk out, pretend none of this happened, throw myself into hockey until the noise in my head shuts down completely.

But I don't.

Instead, I stay, staring at the ice like it holds all the answers I've never been able to find.

The truth is, Blake is right.

I do look at him like that. I've been looking at him like that since the moment we met, since the damn viral video, since every argument, every stupid mistake, every moment Blake made me feel like something other than just a hockey player.

And it terrifies me.

Because wanting Blake means risking everything.

My career. My reputation. My entire life.

I don't know if I'm brave enough for that.

And the worst part? Blake is already pulling away.

I can feel it.

And for the first time in years, the fear of losing a game isn't the thing that scares me the most.

The next day I arrive at the rink early.

The charity ice show is today. There's no time to waste-no time for distractions, no time for emotions. Just focus.

Except-

Blake isn't here.

I frown, scanning the empty ice. Usually, he's always here first, warming up, stretching, skating alone before anyone else arrives.

But today, the rink is silent.

A strange, uneasy feeling settles in my chest.

I check my phone. No messages from Blake. No updates. Nothing.

A memory from last night flashes in my mind-Blake's voice, sharp and final.

"I'm not waiting forever."

I swallow hard.

Did I just lose him before I even figured out what I want?