Page 10 of Icebound Hearts

And I can feel it, that silent, suffocating weight of his attention. I know he's watching me even when he’s not speaking or even when someone else is laughing. I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but I do. And that’s what terrifies me the most.

The night continues—laughter, inside jokes, easy conversation, and pizzas.

But for me, none of it registers. Because even as we settle in to watch White Chicks, even as the movie plays in the background and the others joke and drink, I can’t focus.

Chapter Five

KATERINA

The tension in this house is suffocating. It started over something stupid—a hoodie left in the common area. But with four overgrown hockey players and me, a figure skater who wasn’t even supposed to be here in the first place, nothing ever stays small for long.

“You don’t just leave your shit lying around!” Aiden snaps, holding up the hoodie like it personally offended him. His dark eyes narrow, shoulders tight with irritation. I cross my arms, refusing to let him intimidate me.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I break one of your sacred house rules? Maybe I should write that one down.” My voice drips with sarcasm because if I don’t meet him with defiance, I’ll end up swallowing his hostility like a bitter pill. His jaw tightens.

“This isn’t funny, Hart. You keep acting like you own the place.” I scoff. “Trust me, if I had any choice, I wouldn’t be living with a bunch of hockey Neanderthals. But thanks to your school’s incompetence, I’m here. So deal with it.” His expression flickers—just for a second—but I see it. Something unreadable. Then, just as quickly, it hardens again.

“You don’t belong here.” That one hits a little too hard, but I won’t let him see it. I tilt my chin up.

“And yet, here I am. Must suck for you.”

“Yeah, it does.” His words are sharp like he wants me to bleed. “I don’t have time to babysit a princess who thinks she can skate through life on pity.” Anger blazes through me, hotter than any humiliation.

“Pity?” I step closer, getting right in his face. “You think I got here on pity? I had to claw my way back after somebody ripped everything from me. Unlike you, I wasn’t handed my spot on a silver platter.” His eyes darken, his nostrils flaring.

“You don’t know shit about me,” he replies.

“And I don’t want to.” I push past him, shoulder-checking him harder than necessary. “Stay out of my way, Knight.” I don’t wait for his response before storming off. I don’t care what he has to say. I don’t care about anything other than proving to him, to everyone, that I belong here.

The following day, I woke up feeling anxious. I know what it is. It’s my need to be the best and not disappoint my new coach. The rink is cold enough that my breath fogs before me as I step inside. It’s early, too early for anyone else to be here. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a pale glow over the empty ice. Good. I need this.

I need the ice, the control, the quiet focus of skating that drowns out everything else. The second I lace up my skates and step onto the frozen surface, the world fades away. The tension in my chest eases, replaced by the rhythm of my movements. But, of course,nothing in my life is ever that simple. Aiden is already here. I hear him before I see him—the sharp scrape of his blades cutting into the ice, the unmistakable rhythm of an athlete who knows exactly what he’s doing. When I look up, he’s gliding effortlessly across the rink, his movements fluid and powerful. Damn it. If I didn’t hate him so much, I might admit he’s a damn good skater. But I do hate him, so I won’t.

I push forward, skating onto the ice, pretending he doesn’t exist. Maybe he’ll do the same if I ignore him—no such luck.

“You lost?” he calls out, his voice carrying across the empty rink. I grit my teeth, matching his glare.

“No. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” He skates closer, his presence suffocating.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I reply.

“You want me to snap at you.” His voice is lower now, more dangerous. “And you want me to hate you!” I don’t flinch.

“I don’t give a damn what you feel about me.” He laughs humourlessly, skating backward, his movements infuriatingly smooth. “Keep telling yourself that, Angel Face.” My fists clench as I watch him glide away effortlessly like none of this affects him. But I know better. He hates me. And I hate him right back.

Or at least, I want to.

The tension from the morning lingers long after I leave the rink. Even back at the house, I can feel Aiden’s presence like an electric charge in the air. I try to avoid him, but that's nearly impossible with four hockey players crammed into one space.I’m in the kitchen, stirring sugar into my tea, when I hear footsteps behind me.

“Still sulking?” I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. His low and edged, amused voice makes my blood boil. I take a slow sip of my tea before answering.

“Still talking?” He exhales sharply, stepping closer. I can feel the warmth of his body just behind me.

“You’re exhausting,” he adds.

“So are you.” I snap back, turning around, and for a second, we’re too close. I can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, the faint crease between his brows. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something there—something I don’t understand or want to understand. But I feel this deep need to.

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