CHAPTER 14

BLADES & BREAKAWAYS

Chapter 14: Breaking Point

3RD Person's POV

Blake had learned to pack light.

A lifetime of competitions, of traveling from one rink to another, had taught him how to fit everything he needed into a single suitcase. His skates, his practice gear, a few personal belongings. The essentials.

He folded his last sweater and placed it neatly in his bag before zipping it shut.

It was easier this way.

If he kept moving, if he focused on the next thing-the next competition, the next routine, the next goal-then maybe he wouldn't have time to think about the way Ryker had looked at him in the rink.

Like he wanted to say something but couldn't.

Like he was too afraid to even try.

Blake swallowed hard, pushing the thought away.

He had a flight to catch.

Across the city, Ryker sat in a conference room, staring at the people who controlled his career.

His coach, the team's PR manager, a couple of executives from the New York Titans organization-all of them watching him with expectant eyes.

"Ryker," his coach started, voice measured. "We need you to address this situation. The media is running wild with speculation, and it's affecting the team."

The PR manager nodded. "The best course of action is to make a statement. Keep it simple. Deny any personal relationship with Blake Sinclair and emphasize that the performance was just that-a performance."

Ryker felt his stomach twist.

Deny it. Pretend it meant nothing.

Lie.

His hands curled into fists against his lap.

"And if I don't?" His voice was quiet, but the tension in the room sharpened.

His coach exhaled through his nose. "Then you're putting your entire career on the line. The league isn't as open as you'd like to think, and the sponsors-"

"I get it," Ryker cut him off.

He got it.

Hockey wasn't just a game. It was a business. A system built on expectations, on rules that went beyond what happened on the ice.

He had spent his entire life following those rules.

But for the first time, he wasn't sure he could.

Blake tightened the straps on his duffel bag and checked his phone.

Still nothing from Ryker.

Not that he expected anything.

The past few days had made one thing painfully clear-Ryker wasn't ready. Maybe he never would be.

Blake had spent years rebuilding himself after his accident, after the fall that nearly ended his career. He had learned how to stand up again, how to push forward even when it hurt.

And he wasn't about to fall again for someone who wouldn't catch him.

He grabbed his suitcase and headed for the door.

Cole found Ryker in the locker room, sitting on one of the benches, staring at nothing.

"You look like hell," Cole said, dropping down onto the bench beside him.

Ryker didn't respond.

Cole sighed. "Look, man. I know this is complicated. I know you're scared. But if you let him leave without telling him how you feel, you're gonna regret it for the rest of your life."

Ryker's jaw clenched. "It's not that simple."

"Yeah, it is," Cole shot back. "You love him, don't you?"

Ryker's stomach lurched.

Love.

He hadn't let himself think the word. Hadn't let himself acknowledge what had been growing between them from the moment Blake grabbed his wrist that night outside the rink.

But it was too late to deny it now.

Cole clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Then go. Before it's too late."

Blake checked in his bag and made his way toward security, his fingers tightening around the strap of his carry-on.

He told himself he wasn't waiting for anything.

That he wasn't checking his phone for a message that wasn't coming.

That he wasn't hoping for-

"Blake!"

His breath caught in his chest.

The sound of footsteps, rapid and desperate, echoed through the terminal.

Blake turned.

Ryker was running toward him, completely out of breath, his hockey jacket half-zipped, his hair a mess. People stared, but he didn't seem to care.

For a second, Blake couldn't move.

Then Ryker stopped in front of him, panting.

"I can't-" Ryker exhaled sharply, like he was trying to catch up to his own words. "I can't let you leave without saying this."

Blake's heart pounded. "Ryker-"

"I'm scared," Ryker admitted, voice raw. "I've spent my whole life being told who I'm supposed to be, how I'm supposed to act. And I was stupid enough to think I could just ignore this. Ignore you."

Blake swallowed hard. "And now?"

Ryker took a step closer.

"Now I know that losing you scares me more."

Blake stared at him, emotions clashing in his chest.

"You can't just say that now," Blake said, his voice unsteady. "Not when I'm about to walk away."

"I know." Ryker's gaze was steady. "But I had to try."

Blake exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment.

He wanted to believe him.

But belief wasn't enough.

"Ryker," he said carefully. "If I stay, I need to know this isn't just a moment. That you're not going to run the second it gets hard."

Ryker hesitated, then reached out, his fingers brushing against Blake's wrist.

"I don't know how to be the person you deserve," he admitted. "But I want to try."

Blake searched his face, looking for hesitation, for doubt-but for the first time, there was none.

Just Ryker, standing in front of him, choosing him.

The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal.

Blake glanced toward the gate.

Then back at Ryker.

His chest tightened.

He had a choice to make.