Page 76 of Fractured Faceoff

What was I even doing? Faking a relationship with him felt both thrilling and terrifying. But every time I felt uncertain, his gaze would find mine for just a moment before I looked away again. It was like he was reaching out silently, reminding me I wasn’t alone in this.

As we pulled into the player lot, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. The rink loomed ahead—home to countless memories, both good and bad. The sun hung low in the sky now, casting long shadows across the pavement and painting everything in warm hues that made everything feel alive.

Jared parked and turned off the engine but lingered for a second longer, looking straight ahead as if searching for something beyond our surroundings. The glow from inside illuminated his profile—a perfect blend of focus and ease.

“Here we are,” he said finally, breaking the stillness.

I took a deep breath and nodded again, this time feeling something more than apprehension stirring inside me—a flicker of excitement mixed with hope that maybe tonight would be different from all those nights before.

He opened the door for me, a chivalrous gesture that felt strangely intimate. As I stepped out into the cool evening air, he took my hand, his grip warm and steady. The contact sent a shiver up my spine, a mixture of nerves and anticipation swirling inside me.

Together, we walked toward therink, the familiar sounds of the city fading into the background. The Serpents' arena stood tall against the twilight sky, its exterior illuminated by bright lights that danced across the polished glass. I inhaled deeply, taking in the sharp scent of fresh ice mixed with a hint of popcorn from inside. It felt electric—the kind of energy that made my heart race.

I glanced around at fans milling about, their excitement palpable. A few recognizable faces greeted us—a couple of players' wives and families laughing together, their voices mingling in a chorus of joy. I wondered if they saw me standing there with Jared and how it would feel to be accepted among them instead of lurking in the shadows like before.

Jared tugged gently on my hand as we neared the player entrance, leading me through an archway that separated fans from players. The moment felt significant as if crossing into an entirely different realm where everything was charged with possibility.

Once inside, I caught sight of our surroundings: walls adorned with banners celebrating past victories, photographs capturing intense moments frozen in time. The locker room buzzed with energy; players prepared for warm-ups while coaches barked orders like generals gearing up for battle.

“Stay close,” Jared murmured as he leaned closer to me.

He paused for just a moment before leaning forward and planting a lingering kiss on my cheek. The warmth radiated through me like sunlight breaking through clouds. My heart fluttered wildly as he pulled away slightly but kept his eyes locked onto mine.

“See you after?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

I nodded breathlessly as he turned to head toward the locker room. Each step away felt heavy, but I remainedrooted in place for just a moment longer—savoring the lingering touch of his lips on my skin and hoping this night would be more than just another game night lost in memory.

As Jared walked away, I stood frozen for a moment, the heat from his kiss still tingling on my cheek. I took a deep breath, trying to steady the wild fluttering in my chest. This was exactly what I had warned him against—what I had warned myself against.

“Focus, Isla,” I whispered to myself as I turned on my heel and made my way down the familiar corridor toward my office. The hum of excitement outside grew louder, filled with laughter and anticipation, but I needed a moment of solitude. The door clicked shut behind me, sealing off the noise and leaving only the quiet comfort of my small sanctuary.

I sank into the plush chair at my desk, glancing around at the framed photos that adorned the walls—snapshots of players mid-action and a few personal moments with colleagues. My fingers grazed over the polished surface of the desk, trying to ground myself in reality. This was supposed to be simple: just a fake relationship to get under Brody’s skin and show my sister that I could stand on my own.

But now? Now it felt dangerously complicated.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling tiles as if they held answers. What was happening to me? One moment, I was in control; now everything seemed to spiral beyond my grasp. Jared’s charm caught me off guard. Each glance he shot my way sent warmth rushing through me—like fireworks igniting against the dark sky.

What if this turned into something more? The very thought twisted like a knife in my gut. I couldn’t affordto fall for him—not when we both had our baggage weighing us down like anchors.

Pushing up from my seat, I paced across the small room. Breaking things off felt like the only option before it got too difficult—before I got too invested and let myself believe in something that would only lead to disappointment.

But then there were those fleeting moments when his laughter echoed in my mind or when his smile lit up a room like sunshine breaking through clouds. Those were memories too sweet to discard lightly.

“Ugh!” I groaned aloud, raking a hand through my hair in frustration. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! How had everything turned so complicated so quickly?

Glancing at the clock on my desk, I jolted at the time. The game was about to start! I took a deep breath, shaking off the tension as best as I could. No time for doubts now; I needed to be in that arena.

As I stepped out of my office and into the bustling corridor, excitement buzzed around me. Fans were filtering into their seats, laughter and cheers filling the air. I weaved through the crowd until I reached the entrance to the glass seats Jared had gotten for me—an unexpected luxury that made my stomach flip with anticipation.

Once seated, I adjusted myself in the plush chair and scanned the rink below. The ice gleamed under bright lights, a blank canvas ready for action. My heart raced as players began to skate out for warm-ups; each swift movement filled me with a thrill that felt all too familiar.

But then something made me freeze.

There he was—Brody—leaning casually against the glass. And he looked furious.

Chapter 22

Jared

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