Page 42 of Cold Carnage

“Yeah?” I asked, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah,” he said simply.

Rowan shot another puck, and we all watched as it sailed past Kellan and hit the back of the net with a satisfying thud.

"What's your problem with her, anyway?" Kellan asked. "If this were elementary school, I'd say you want to fuck her."

I clenched my teeth, the muscles in my jaw tight as steel cables. My problem with Paige? Where the hell to start?

But the thing was, I remembered that night. The night I tried so damn hard to forget. Wrapped up in her, deep inside of her, I thought I had my fill. I stayed away when she and Brendan were dating out of respect for my brother. Kept my distance, buried the desire.

And when she left him, it became so damn easy to channel all my anger at her. Made her the villain in my story because it simplified things. Black and white. Good and bad.

Until I saw her again.

Kellan's question hung in the air like smoke, impossible to ignore. "Well? Do you?"

"Do I what?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Want to fuck her?"

Like he was asking about the fucking weather.

Rowan laughed, but it was a rough sound, almost bitter. "Kid’s got a point."

Weston shot me a look that felt like a punch to the gut. “So? What’s your problem with her?”

My grip tightened on the stick until my knuckles turned white. My problem with Paige? I still fucking wanted her.

Seeing her again ripped open wounds I thought had long since healed. Her laugh with Leo grated on me.

Fucking Leo.

She was fire and ice, tearing through my defenses without even trying. She knew how to get under my skin and stay there.

“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered, shooting another puck with more force than necessary.

Rowan caught my eye, his gaze piercing through my shit. “Bullshit, Kane.”

Kellan deflected the puck effortlessly, not missing a beat in our conversation. “You think we can’t see it?”

Weston skated closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “She's been here, what, a week, and she's already got your panties in a twist."

Kellan leaned against the goalpost, his grin wicked. "I'd like to see what her panties look like on my floor."

"Fuck off, Kellan," I snarled, my voice a low growl that echoed through the empty rink.

He smirked, eyes narrowing slightly as he took in my reaction. The bastard knew exactly how to push my buttons.

Rowan’s shot hit the back of the net with a loud thud, drawing our attention. He looked over at me, concern etched into his rugged features. “Ease up, Kane. Fuck, it's never this easy to rile you. What's going on with you?”

I clenched my jaw, skating over to the boards and leaning on my stick for support. The cold from the ice seeped into my bones, grounding me somewhat. But the irritation still simmered beneath the surface.

Weston skated closer, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, man. You’ve been on edge since she got here.”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, not meeting their gazes.

“Bullshit,” Rowan shot back again, setting up another puck for a slapshot.

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