Page 9 of Rivals on Lockdown

The kiss started tentative—just a gentle press of lips against lips. Louis held perfectly still, afraid any movement might shatter whatever was happening between them, his heart hammering against his ribs. Seven years of tension, of wanting, of pretending not to want, collapsed into this single moment.

When Kaden pulled back, the absence of his warmth lasted only a heartbeat, but it felt endless. Then he was leaning in again, and this time, when their lips met, Kaden’s tongue traced slowly, deliberately along Louis’s bottom lip. Louis’s breath caught in his throat—it was just like their first kiss by the pool, both of them tasting of alcohol, but this time, Louis was drunk enough not to care about tomorrow.

Kaden’s tongue slipped into Louis’s mouth, and their tongues met in a heated rush. A quiet moan escaped Kaden’s throat, the sound shooting straight through Louis, making his blood run hot. Kaden’s hand began a slow, deliberate journey up Louis’s thigh, and Louis’s body went rigid, pulse thundering in his ears. When Kaden’s hand found Louis’s hardness, Louis cursed, and Kaden let out an audible gasp. But before Kaden could do anything else, Louis caught his wrist, gripping it to stop him.

Kaden exhaled sharply against his lips. “Buzzkill,” he whispered.

“You’re drunk,” Louis said, disappointment welling in his chest.

“Not that drunk,” Kaden insisted for the second time that evening.

“Yeah, you are.”

“But you want me,” Kaden purred, squeezing meaningfully. His voice dropped lower, dripping honey and venom. “I can feel how badly you want me, Lou. You’ve wanted me for seven years, haven’t you? Every time I score against you, every time I get under your skin—this is what you’ve been thinking about.”

“Shut up,” Louis growled, but his grip on Kaden’s wrist wavered.

“Make me,” Kaden breathed against his mouth, the words a challenge and a plea. His free hand slid up Louis’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair. “Is that what keeps you up at night, Lou? Knowing you had me right there, and I slipped through your fingers?” His lips grazed Louis’s jaw.

Louis’s breath hitched. “Why did you run?”

“Does it matter?” Kaden whispered, teeth grazing Louis’s earlobe. “Why didn’t you come after me?” Louis’s grip tightened on his wrist, and Kaden let out a soft, dangerous laugh. “All these years of watching me, hating me, wanting me—and you still can’t take what you want.” His hand twisted in Louis’s grip. “So take it now.” His voice dropped lower, darker. “Because after tonight, Lou? I might not make it this easy again.”

Louis was still for a long moment, his grip on Kaden’s wrist like iron where it held Kaden’s hand against his hardness. The Kaden from earlier tonight had been measured, real—but now the whiskey had stripped something loose in him, something Louis had never seen before.

“You don’t get to play games with me anymore.”

“Don’t I?” Kaden’s voice was breathless but still taunting. His palm rubbed Louis’s cock deliberately through his clothes. “Isn’t that what you like about me, Lou? That I never make anything easy for you?”

“No,” Louis said roughly, ignoring the way his cock twitched in response to the touch. “I liked you better an hour ago when you weren’t hiding behind this act.” Something flickered across Kaden’s face then—raw and unguarded—before the mask slipped back into place.

“Maybethatwas the act,” Kaden said with a smirk, his fingers still working Louis’s cock with precision. “Besides, we both know you love hearing me taunt you.”

Louis fought back a shudder as Kaden’s fingers moved against him, his hand finding Kaden’s throat, thumb pressing against his pulse point. “I could make you stop talking.”

“You could try,” Kaden whispered, leaning into Louis’s touch instead of away. “I was hoping to get a mouthful—” His words cut off in a gasp as Louis’s mouth found his neck, teeth scraping against sensitive skin—not enough to hurt, just a warning.

“I don’t want you like this,” Louis murmured against his skin.

Kaden went still. In the dim light, Louis could feel the subtle shift in his body language—the way tension crept into his shoulders, how his breath caught and held for just a moment too long. When he pulled away, the cold air rushed between them, making Louis’s skin prickle.

The screen lit up as Kaden picked up his phone, the beam catching the side of his face—just enough to show how his facade had crumbled. The cockiness was gone, replaced by something raw that made Louis’s chest ache. His blue eyes, usually sharp with challenge or mockery, now held a vulnerability Louis hadn’t seen since that night by the pool seven years ago.

Without meeting Louis’s gaze, Kaden reached for the bottle of rum. His hands weren’t quite steady as he brought itto his lips, taking one long pull, then another. The quiet sounds of swallowing seemed too loud in the stillness of the darkened locker room. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and slumped against the wall, the expensive fabric of his dress shirt catching and dragging against the concrete.

The minutes stretched between them, marked only by the soft sound of their breathing and the distant howl of the storm. Gradually, Kaden’s breaths grew deeper, more even. The tension began to leave his body in slow waves until his head drooped slightly to one side. Soon, his breathing had settled into the steady rhythm of alcohol-induced sleep.

In the dim light, Kaden’s face had softened, the sharp edges of his usual mask smoothed away by unconsciousness. He looked younger somehow, more like the boy from seven years ago—before the rivalry, before their public personas, before everything between them had become so complicated.

Louis leaned his head back against the wall, willing his heartbeat to slow and his body to cool down. His erection faded slowly, replaced by a hollow ache in his chest that felt worse than any hit he’d taken on the ice. Seven years of wondering what could have happened if Kaden hadn’t run that night, and now here they were—drunk and locked in a locker room, still running in their own ways. He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath that clouded in the cold air.

Maybe it was better this way. In the morning, Kaden would put his mask back on, and they’d go back to being what everyone expected them to be: rivals, nothing more.

Chapter 4. Alone

Louis jerked awake at half past eight. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, memories of whiskey making his temples throb. The power must have come back on sometime during the night—fluorescent lights hummed overhead, harsh and unforgiving.

For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. Then he registered the warm weight pressed against him, each slow breath from Kaden fanning gently against his collarbone. Kaden was still asleep, head nestled against Louis’s chest, one hand curled loosely in the front of Louis’s thermal, their bodies huddled together under Louis’s parka for warmth. How they’d managed to get into this position during the night, Louis didn’t know—probably seeking heat in their sleep as the temperature dropped. But the sight made his breath catch, a familiar ache blooming in his chest. Kaden looked different like this, all his careful control softened by sleep, golden hair mussed and falling across his forehead, lips slightly parted. Almost peaceful, without the mask he wore.

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