CHAPTER 6

BLADES & BREAKAWAYS

Chapter 6: The Shift

Blake Sinclair's POV

I hate being injured.

More than that, I hate feeling weak.

The second Ava forced me to end practice early, I knew she was going to hover. She's always been like this-protective to the point of suffocation. But what I didn't expect was him.

Ryker Hayes.

The last person I thought would stay.

He's been here since practice ended, lingering at the rink even after Ava left. I don't know why. He doesn't even look like he knows why. He just sits on the bench near the boards, scrolling through his phone, tossing an occasional glance in my direction like he's making sure I haven't collapsed.

It's infuriating.

And worse-it's not unwelcome.

I shift my weight on my injured knee, testing it. There's a dull ache, but nothing unbearable. I've skated through worse. Still, I can hear Ava's voice in my head, warning me not to push it.

I sigh, leaning back against the boards. "You don't have to babysit me, you know."

Ryker doesn't even look up from his phone. "I'm not."

I shoot him a pointed look. "You're literally sitting there, watching me."

He shrugs. "I was already here."

"That's not an answer."

He finally lifts his gaze, eyes sharp and unreadable. "Maybe I don't feel like leaving yet."

Something in my stomach twists. I don't know what to do with that answer.

Instead of responding, I look away, focusing on the ice. It's almost empty now, just a few lingering skaters finishing their routines. The silence between us stretches, but it's not as heavy as it should be.

And that-that's dangerous.

Because I shouldn't be comfortable with him here.

Time passes, but Ryker doesn't move.

I don't know why I don't tell him to leave. Maybe because, deep down, I don't want him to.

He's quiet in a way I didn't expect. I thought he was all sharp edges and loud tempers, but right now, he's just there. Not pushing, not prying. Just existing in the same space as me.

It's unsettling.

And yet, I don't hate it.

I exhale, shifting my leg again. Ryker notices. His brows furrow slightly, and then he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"You should ice it," he says.

I roll my eyes. "Wow. What an original idea."

He glares. "You want me to carry you to the damn med room?"

The mental image makes me snort. "I'd love to see you try."

His mouth twitches like he's fighting a smirk, but then he just shakes his head and leans back again.

The silence returns, but this time, it's different.

Not uncomfortable.

Just... charged.

I don't know when I started watching him instead of the ice. The sharp angles of his face, the way his hands flex like he's always ready for a fight, the way his eyes soften when he thinks no one's looking.

I shouldn't be noticing these things.

And yet, I am.

Something is shifting between us.

And I don't know how to stop it.

It happens too fast.

One second, we're sitting in silence, the air thick with something unspoken. The next, I move-shifting my weight wrong, my knee giving out beneath me.

I curse under my breath, bracing myself for the impact.

But I never hit the ground.

Because Ryker is there.

His hands catch me before I can fall, one gripping my waist, the other steadying my arm. The sudden closeness knocks the breath from my lungs.

I freeze.

He does too.

We're inches apart, his face close enough that I can see the faint scar on his jaw, the way his throat bobs when he swallows. His hands are warm, firm against me.

I should move.

I don't.

Neither does he.

His grip tightens slightly, not enough to hurt-just enough to steady me. His breathing is slow, controlled, but I can feel it. The tension between us is suffocating, pressing against my ribs, coiling in my stomach like something dangerous.

His eyes flicker to mine.

And suddenly, I know.

If I lean in, even a little-

If he tilts his head, just slightly-

This thing between us, whatever it is-

It won't be unspoken anymore.

For a brief, reckless second, I want it.

I want to know what it would feel like to let go, to stop thinking, to just let it happen.

Then-

A sharp voice cuts through the air. Ava.

The moment shatters.

Ryker pulls back immediately, his hands dropping away like he's been burned. I take a quick step back, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Ava strides toward us, completely oblivious to what just almost happened. "Blake, you should be resting. What the hell are you still doing here?"

I force a breath, forcing my expression into something neutral. "I was about to leave."

She eyes me suspiciously, then glances at Ryker. He's unreadable again-his usual mask back in place.

"Good," she says finally. "Let's go."

I nod, moving toward my bag. My hands are shaking slightly as I grab it. I don't know why.

I don't look at Ryker as I pass him.

And he doesn't stop me.

But as I walk away, I can still feel his hands on me.

Still feel the weight of what almost happened.

Still feel the shift.

And I know-this is only the beginning.