Page 43 of Game Misconduct

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But the box already feels too small.

I snap the laptop shut. The sound echoes, too loud in the empty office.

Internal Risk: Sloane Carrington.

The words loop in my head, sharper than any headline, sharper than Dean’s condescension.

I lean back, exhaustion pressing me into the chair, but my pulse won’t slow.

It’s still there, the memory of Maddox’s hand steadying me, the way he didn’t back down.

The heat I can’t seem to shake.

Control, I remind myself. Always control.

But the echo is louder.

Boundary slippage.

Emotional distraction.

Loss of control.

I laugh, low and humorless. “This can’t be good.”

The office doesn’t argue. Just shadows pooling deeper, the hum of the city pressing against the glass.

I rise, heels dangling from my hand, and walk toward the door. Each step measured, hard enough to sound like steel.

But the words follow me anyway, stitched into my skin.

Internal Risk: Sloane Carrington.

I glance over at the framed jersey on the wall and for a split second, I swear I smell leather like my father’s standing right here.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t know if I’m the one holding the leash—or if it’s already slipped from my hand.

CHAPTER TEN

Maddox

The whistle blows,and the scrimmage snaps to life.

I lock my knees and square my frame, tracking the first rush coming down the ice.

Riley cuts in fast, slick hands moving like he’s performing for a highlight reel instead of a practice. Showboating, peacock that he is.

He drags the puck across the slot, fakes one way, and goes the other. I stretch, glove snapping out in time to shut him down.

“Fuck!”

He’s loud enough for the bench to hear, and Finn laughs so hard he nearly drops his stick.

As usual, Finn’s busting balls as much as playing. He doesn’t shut up the whole practice—giving me shit about my age, about Riley’s missed chance, about anything that’ll get under someone’s skin.

If you’re in his orbit, you’re a target.

Logan runs the next play clean and efficient, settling the chaos with one perfectly placed pass that lands tape-to-tape.

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