Page 19 of Hooked On Them

“Doesn’t mean I played well. Yeah, I’ve heard that speech before.” He reached for his shirt, yanking it over his head.

I exhaled slowly, shifting tactics. “Your recovery matters just as much as your training. If you’re burning yourself out here, it’s going to show up in your game, especially when you’re working on moving in ways that go against your muscle memory.”

His laugh echoed through the empty gym as his gaze swept over me with the kind of dismissive arrogance that made me want to throw something at his ridiculously handsome face. Where was my clipboard when I needed it? “You love telling people what to do, don’t you? Not just on the ice.”

Heat crawled up my neck, not from embarrassment but from the kind of slow-burning anger that came from dealing with a petulant man-child. “That was uncalled for.”

“Was it?” His eyes locked onto mine, challenge radiating from every pore as he stepped closer, invading my space with his towering presence and the lingering scent of his body wash mixed with sweat.

“Yes.” My pulse betrayed me with a skip.

“I don’t think it was. You get off on control.” He tilted his head, studying me like he was waiting for me to crack first. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk that I wanted to wipe off his face… preferably with my lips. No. Definitely not with my lips.

“But you liked it, didn’t you? Me being in control?” My fingers itched to grab a handful of his hair and bring his lips to mine, a craving that made me want to kick myself. Because I knew exactly how those lips felt, how his stubble would scratch against my skin, and how his hands would grip my hips with the right amount of pressure.

Worse, I knew the satisfied little growl he’d make in the back of his throat. My traitorous body ignored the fact that I couldn’t give in to my impulses as my core tightened with need.

His eyes dropped to my lips, and I held my breath. “If you told me to get on my knees for you right now, I—” The door leading to the locker room swung open before he could finish his sentence.

Miles walked in, a bottle of water in one hand and his bag in the other. “Bro, I thought you said one more set. I’m about to eat my own arm I’m so fucking hungry.” He froze when he realized Dominic wasn’t alone, his eyes darting between us as his frown deepened. “Everything okay in here?”

“Just getting some coaching advice. Apparently, I need more rest.” Dominic’s posture shifted instantly, shoulders dropping as he stepped back and broke eye contact. The mask of indifference slipped back into place so smoothly I almost doubted the intensity I’d witnessed seconds earlier.

“She’s not wrong.” Miles cringed as Dominic pegged him with a glare. “We’re getting old.”

“Maybeyou’refeeling like an old man, but I’m not because I put the work in.” Dominic walked over to a bench where his phone was. “Give me five minutes to change.”

As Dominic disappeared into the locker room, Miles turned to me, confusion written across his face. “Did I interrupt something?”

I honestly didn’t know the answer to that. Would one of us have snapped and acted on the tension that still hummed between us from the night before? If the tingling still going on between my legs was any indication, I wasn’t sure I would have been able to resist him. “Just Dominic being Dominic.”

“Yeah…” Miles hesitated, looking over at the locker room. “He gets like this sometimes when the pressure is high, especially at the beginning and end of the season.”

Why did it feel like I was becoming the pressure point? “Well, he needs to channel that energy more productively.”

Miles nodded, his eyes softening. “Hey, we’re going to grab some food. You should join us.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” My body betrayed me for the second time in as many minutes as my stomach growled its displeasure.

Miles grinned, the kind of easy smile that probably got him out of trouble his whole life. “Your stomach disagrees. Come on, Coach. You’ve got to eat sometime, and we’re going to my favorite diner. Their fries will change your life.”

I should say no. I should go home to my sad pint of ice cream, but the friendliness in Miles’s expression made me pause. Maybe normal food with normal conversation was exactly what I needed.

Chapter8

Off-Limits

Miles

My hunger was spiraling out of control, and not just for the pile of food I was about to demolish. After our game and late workout, my body craved fuel, but there was another kind of yearning that had taken up permanent residence inside me.

I had the worst fucking crush on Nora and had since I’d first watched her land a triple axel in competition. She was thirteen and a powerhouse in a sparkly dark purple dress, and I’d been completely in awe of her.

Even back then, she’d exuded a fierce determination that made it impossible to look away. Fifteen years later, and that fascination had only grown stronger now that she was a coach, evolving into something that made my heart rate speed up when she walked into a room. Not that I’d ever admit that to anyone, especially not to her.

The curved green vinyl booth squeaked under me as I slid in, watching Nora and Dominic perform an awkward dance of who-sits-where. The hesitation before either of them moved was subtle but unmistakable. Nora slid in next to me, even though there wasn’t much room, while Dominic took the opposite side.

Something was off.

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