“Yeah, I’ve met her. She’s barely eighteen and thinks she can run a team,” I muttered. The words tasted bitter on my tongue, a mix of frustration and resignation. I knew I was venting, but the weight of leadership had been bearing down on me harder than ever. With the season approaching, the last thing I needed was someone like Paige complicating things. “You expect me to listen to someone like her? She’s a distraction.”
Gideon’s expression didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes—something unreadable, calculated. “Paige is here because she’s good at what she does,” he said. “She’s not a distraction unless you let her become one.”
I clenched my jaw; the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I wanted to argue, to push back, but Gideon’s calm demeanor made it difficult to find a weak spot. Gideon never got ruffled. He was like ice—unshakable and always ready to remind me that my place was on the ice, not in the boardroom.
“Look,” I said, trying to rein in my frustration. “I don’t need her getting in the way. This team is under enough pressure as it is. We’re not going to win with her breathing down our necks.”
Gideon considered this for a moment, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re the captain, Ryker. You lead on the ice. Let me handle the front office.” His tone was smooth but firm, a subtle reminder that while I may command the locker room, Gideon commanded everything else.
The tension between us was palpable, but I said nothing more. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Paige’s presence was going to make things messier than they needed to be. As captain, I bore the weight of every win and every loss. The responsibility was mine, and adding another variable like Paige felt like a recipe for disaster.
Especially after what she did to my brother.
Especially after…
With that, I turned on my heel and left his office, slamming the door behind me. My mind raced with frustration and disbelief as I headed down the hallway. How could Gideon be so calm about this? It felt like we were playing with fire.
Paige might have impressed him with her credentials, but she hadn’t earned her place here yet—not in my eyes. And she never would. She couldn't commit to save her life, and when she did, she ran away like a fucking coward. If she wanted to prove herself, she’d have to do it the hard way.
And I wasn’t about to make it easy for her.
I returnedto the rink that night, needing the cold atmosphere of the ice beneath my skates. The conversation with Gideon had left a bitter taste in my mouth, and Paige’s presence was a thornI couldn’t shake. The ice was my sanctuary, the one place where everything made sense. Here, I could reset, regain control.
I stepped onto the ice; the chill seeping through my gear, and started my drills with brutal precision. Each slap of the puck against my stick was a reminder of the weight I carried. Being captain wasn’t just about playing; it was about shouldering the expectations of the team, the fans, the entire organization. It meant winning at all costs.
But tonight, even the ice couldn’t wipe away the irritation gnawing at me.
Paige Adams.
Her calm composure during our meeting still grated on me. She hadn’t flinched under pressure, hadn’t backed down. Most people respected my authority, knew their place around me. But not her. It pissed me off more than I wanted to admit.
The rink was quiet, the echo of my skates cutting through the silence. I let my thoughts wander back to the first time I met Paige. One of the outreach programs the Serpents worked with wanted a couple of players to speak to local colleges, including the University of Michigan. And there she was, front and center, with her stupid little notebook and her stupid sparkly pink pen like she was going to take a test on whatever we said.
God, she was fucking beautiful.
Her presence had a way of commanding attention without demanding it. She moved through the crowd with ease, a natural grace that made heads turn. She, naturally, had fifty questions for me afterwards, and one thing led to another…
I still didn’t know how she wound up meeting Brendan. I still didn’t know if she knew Brendan was my brother, and this was her way of getting back at me for not calling.
But it didn’t matter.
How Brendan managed to snag someone like her, I couldn’t fathom. It didn’t seem fair.
We’d talked briefly that night. Even then, she’d been unflappable, calm in a sea of chaos. I still didn’t know if she remembered me, that night. If she did, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between us that we would pretend we didn’t know each other. For Brendan's sake. Her eyes met mine with a confidence that unnerved me. I was used to people looking away first, but not her. Paige held her ground, even laughed at some stupid joke Brendan cracked. Her laughter had a warmth to it, something genuine that made you feel like you were in on a secret.
Brendan was smitten; anyone could see that. But me? I knew better.
People like Paige didn’t stick around for long. They got bored or found someone more interesting, more worthy of their attention. She would break Brendan's heart; it was just a matter of time.
And she did.
When she left him, Brendan was a wreck. He tried to hide it behind his usual bravado, but I saw through it. The late-night texts and drunken calls weren’t fooling anyone. Partly because, even with my brother being a lazy idiot, he didn’t deserve what she did to him.
But also, I had to relive the fact that someone who belonged to me first somehow found my brother. He had been with her for more than one night.
Maybe it was my fault that I hadn’t called. But how could I? It was my first year as captain, and I needed to keep my head on straight. We were heading out on a two-week road trip after that talk. If I called her that night, I’d be distracted. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew that much.
I drove the puck harder against the boards, frustration fueling each shot. Paige’s face flashed in my mind—calm, unyielding—and I hated how much it rattled me.