Page 13 of They All Puck Me

"Back to the grind," I reply with a playful salute, it's then I realize the vague sexual innuendo included there. It's only confirmed by Noah's wide eyes, and playful smirk.

"I mean, go on, just go play some damn hockey or something." I say, knowing my blush is spreading every second this awkward interaction continues.

"Yes ma'am," he says with a wink.

As Noah skates away, I can't help but feel an undeniable pull toward him—a warmth that lingers even after he's gone back to practice. For now though, I push those thoughts aside and focus on capturing every detail for my article.

The hallway after practice is quieter than I expected, the noise from the rink fading as I head towards the exit. I’m reviewing my notes, eyes on my notebook, when I feel a sudden impact.

"Whoa!" The word slips out as I collide with a solid wall of muscle. Strong hands grip my shoulders, steadying me before I can topple over.

I look up and find myself staring into Ethan’s dark eyes, his usual gruffness momentarily replaced by something softer. Vulnerability, maybe? His hands linger on my shoulders longer than necessary, their warmth seeping through my jacket.

"You know," he mutters, stepping back quickly and dropping his hands. "I'm beginning to think you like to run into me on purpose."

"No not at all," I reply, trying to ignore the way my heart races from our brief contact. "I should probably just pay more attention to where I'm going."

"That's a good start," he says, but there’s a flicker of something in his gaze—reluctance, perhaps? Or maybe just exhaustion.

He maneuvers around me, and heads in the opposite direction. Leaving me glued to the spot I'm in, wondering if there's any subtle truth in his statement of me running into him on purpose.

I leave the arena, my mind a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions. Each step echoes against the cold concrete, mirroring the cacophony inside my head. Liam, Noah, Ethan—they’re all so different, yet each has carved out a space in my mind.

Liam's intensity and leadership are magnetic. The way he commands respect, the flicker of vulnerability when he talks about his team’s rituals—there’s something there that pulls me in. But I remind myself of his reputation, of the barriers he’s built around himself.

Noah’s easy charm is disarming. His quick wit and genuine kindness make me laugh even on the toughest days. There’s an ease to our interactions that feels so natural, like slipping into a favorite pair of jeans. Yet, beneath that carefree exterior, I sense his insecurities—a struggle I understand all too well.

Then there's Ethan. Brooding and fierce, his eyes tell stories of battles fought both on and off the ice. The walls he’s built are high, but every now and then, I catch glimpses of something deeper—something real.

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. My footsteps quicken as I reach the parking lot, the cold air biting at my skin.

Climbing into my car, I grip the steering wheel tightly.

Focus on your career, Olivia.

With one last glance at the arena behind me, I start the engine and drive away into the night.

The echoes of their voices follow me home.

6

LIAM

The puck slides across the ice, and I drive it into the net with a resounding thwack. I glance up and spot Olivia in the stands, her auburn hair catching the light as she scribbles in her notebook. She’s been here for most practices these last few weeks. Not that I mind.

"Nice shot, Captain," Noah says, skating over with a grin. "Trying to impress someone?"

I give him a sidelong glance. "Always."

He chuckles, but his eyes drift toward Olivia. I clench my jaw and skate back to center ice.

"Alright, guys! Let’s pick it up!" I shout, clapping my hands. "We’re running through the power play again."

The team snaps to attention. As we set up, I catch another glimpse of Olivia. Her presence is both thrilling and distracting, making it hard to focus on anything but her.

I dig deep, pushing the team harder than usual. “Move it, Ethan!” I bark when he hesitates on his pass.

Ethan scowls but follows through, sending the puck over to Noah. Noah shoots me a look that says, ‘what’s your problem?’ before taking his shot at the goal.

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