Page 191 of Game Misconduct

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A roar detonates across the arena, but it sounds like static in my ears.

Because I can’t breathe.

“Sloane Carrington,” he says, without a mic now, just his voice carrying like thunder. “You’re the only win that ever mattered.”

My knees go weak.

He doesn’t move.

The whole team stands behind him at the bench, silent and watching. Coach Holt nods once, arms crossed, eyes sharp but approving.

Tessa is crying.

So am I.

I push to my feet, trembling so hard I can barely stand, and move to the front of the glass. Hands braced. Heart pounding like it’s trying to claw its way out.

Maddox stands. Picks up the drawing again. Skates forward until he’s beneath me, face tipped up, haloed in light.

“I’m not asking for a second chance at the team,” he says. “I’m asking for a second chance atyou.”

The silence is deafening.

And then it hits.

Applause. Screams. The crowd erupts, stomping, cheering, crying. Chants start again—my name this time, god help me—and all I can do is stare at him while my world shakes around me.

Because this man.

This gruff, guarded, maddening man?—

Just laid his soul on the ice in front of thousands of people.

For me.

I don’t remember walking out of the suite. Or running down the tunnel. Or bursting onto the ice in heels and a blazer like a lunatic.

All I remember is the sound Maddox makes when I reach him.

Like breaking and coming back together in the same breath.

I don’t say a word.

I just throw my arms around him and kiss him like I’ve got nothing left to lose.

And maybe I don’t.

But I’ve got him.

I don’t know how long we stay like that—arms locked tight, mouths fused, the arena spinning around us like a dream we haven’t earned.

When I finally pull back, it’s not far.

My forehead presses to his, our breath shared between us, hearts pounding out a rhythm too big for words.

He cups my jaw, rough hands trembling. “You came down.”

I nod, blinking hard. “You left me no choice.”

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