Page 9 of The Pucks We Freeze
“Reviewing tape,” he said finally. “Stuff for the team.”
I nodded like I believed him. Like my heart wasn’t already racing. “Didn’t realize playing hockey came with taking so many notes.”
His gaze snapped back to mine, sharper now. “Not everything you see on paper is meant for public view.”
Outside, the wind howled. And in here, something about the way he said that made me question everything. Was he hiding something?
I couldn’t tell. And that made me nervous.
Kade must’ve sensed it, because he stepped in again, slow and calculated, closing the space between us. “If someone had told me two days ago I’d be alone in a room with you again, I would’ve called bullshit.”
I held my breath.
“You thought about that night?” he asked, voice quieter now. “At all?”
I looked down, trying to collect myself. “Don’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I only came here because of the storm,” I said, the words quieter than before. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Yeah?” His voice curled around the space between us, thick with disbelief. Kade let out a low breath, almost a laugh, but it held more weight than amusement. “You didn’t want to be alone,” he echoed, gaze searching mine. “Or you didn’t want to be without me?”
Heat crept up my neck, settling under my skin. He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t about to admit it out loud.
He didn’t push. Just moved with slow confidence, sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. His hand found my calf, gentle yet firm, guiding my legs across his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I didn’t resist.
My breath caught as his fingers rested against my shin, warm and calm. The shift in closeness pulled the tension tighter, threading it through the air like something waiting to snap.
The lights flickered once. Then again.
“It’s fine,” he said, like he knew my heart had just leapt. “I checked the generator tonight. It’ll kick on if the power goes out completely.” His words echoed what I’d told Mae earlier.
Still, I couldn’t look away from him. Couldn’t keep my mind steady. Not with his hand slowly brushing up my thigh.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured, and his voice in the dark made me suck in a sharp breath.
He leaned closer. “I’ve thought about that night more times than I can count,” he said, voice raw now. Honest. “And finding out who you were… who you are to me now… it should’ve stopped me from wanting more.”
My heart pounded.
“But it didn’t,” he said. “It just made it worse.”
I tensed. “Kade—”
He let out a low, humorless laugh. “It’s like you’re this poisoned apple now. And I still want another bite.”
The words landed hard. I shoved the blanket aside and sat up, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to break free. I needed space. Air. Distance from the boy who kept getting too close to the parts of me I’d spent months trying to bury.
“I should go,” I said quietly, avoiding his eyes. “Maybe I’ll find another room.”
I was halfway to standing when the lights flickered, then everything went dark.
Before I could take another step, Kade’s hand wrapped around mine. Strong, steady, he pulled me back.
“It’ll come back on,” he murmured, his voice low and too close. “Just… wait.”
I stood frozen for a second, caught between logic and the pounding in my chest.
