Page 13 of Icebound Hearts

“No problem.” He downs the rest of his drink and walks away without another word. Alexei watches him go before returning to me.

“You really know how to pick ‘em.” I groan.

“I hate him.”I say shooting glares at Aidens back.

Alina just grins. “Keep telling yourself that.”

When I get home, the exhaustion hits me like a wave. I wince as I walk upstairs, each step sending a pulse of pain through my body. I step into the bathroom turning on the shower. The hot water feels like heaven against my skin, but I know it won’t ease the ache in my bones. After drying off and slipping into my pyjamas, I stand in front of the mirror and freeze. A dark purple bruise stretches across my thigh, stark against my skin. I turn around, and sure enough, there’s another bruise on my injured shoulder.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. I sigh, walking downstairs to grab some ice. As I reach the kitchen, I freeze when I see Aiden grabbing water from the fridge. My heart skips a beat, and the air feels thicker with each passing second.

“Hey,” he says, stepping aside to make room for me. I grab the ice and turn to face him. His gaze lingers on my thigh, his expression darkening.

“Jesus, Katerina, that’s huge.” His words make my heart race, and I realise I don’t like how his eyes are fixed on me. I shift uncomfortably.

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “Practice was harsh today. I’m exhausted.” Aiden steps closer, his concern evident.

“Yeah, but you don’t see me getting bruises like that and I play hockey, a violent sport.” His fingers graze my bruise, and I wince—not because it hurts, but because the touch of his hand sends a fire through me.

“Can you stop pretending like you care?” I snap, turning to face him.

“Sorry,” he mutters, pulling his hand back, but the damage is done. I turn away, trying to steady my breathing, but it feels like everything is spiralling out of control.

“We have our first qualifier in two weeks,” I say, trying to change the subject. “I have to be perfect.” Aiden’s eyes never leave me as I speak; his presence is so intense that it feels consuming. “I heard your game is this Friday,” I continue, trying to shake off the tension.

“Yeah,” he responds, his voice distant. “Roman said you’re coming with your friends.” I nod.

“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you there.” He says, turning to leave. As he walks away, I feel the familiar tug in my chest—the one that tells me this thing between us is something.

Stop it, heart. I’m tired of your bullshit around this guy. I force myself to breathe, but the feeling lingers.

Chapter Seven

AIDEN

It’s Game day here at Pleasant Oaks University, and let me tell you, everyone loves us. Returning after last year's brutal season feels like the first inhale of spring air.

I step onto the ice, my skates biting into the surface, the cold air filling my lungs. The energy in the arena crackles like a live wire, thousands of voices blending into a low, humming roar. It’s the season's first game, and the expectations are higher than they’ve ever been. I skate towards the centre of the rink, stick tapping against the boards as the rest of the team gathers. Roman’s already bouncing on his toes, practically vibrating with excitement, while Will and Grayson are locked in their usual pre-game routine of staring at the other team like they’re about to eat them alive. Good. We need that intensity. I take a breath, steadying myself before I speak.

“Listen up,” I start, my voice cutting through the noise. “We’ve trained for this. We know what we’re capable of. We don’t second-guess, we don’t hesitate, and we don’t let the opposing team dictate our pace. We play our game. Hard, fast, and relentless.”

Roman lets out a sharp “Hell yeah,” and a few other guys nod, cracking their knuckles or bouncing on their skates.

I scan the room, ensuring every pair of my teammates' eyes are on me before continuing.

“They think they’re better than us. They think they can out-skate us, out-hit us, outwork us. Let’s show them exactly how wrong they are.” The guys murmur their agreement, the tension building and I clench my jaw, feeling the familiar burn of adrenaline creeping up my spine.

“And one more thing.” My grip on my stick tightens. “We fight for each other. No matter what happens out there, we have each other’s backs.” A chorus of agreement rumbles through the team, and I nod. “Let’s fucking go.” The team erupts, sticks tapping against the ice, the boards rattling as we break apart. My heart pounds as I skate toward the bench, my focus locked in. Nothing else matters but this game until I see her.

She’s sitting in the stands, right beside Alina, arms crossed, one leg draped over the other like she’s utterly unbothered by the chaos around her. Her usual sharp glare is on me, lips slightly pursed in what I’m sure is an attempt to look unimpressed. But it’s her pose that gets me. That signature figure skater stance—back straight, head high, the kind of posture that screams discipline. Grace. Poise. Even sitting down, she looks like she owns the damn place.

I feel my irritation spike. I don’t know why I feel so surprised. I knew she’d be here. Of course, she’s watching. I don’t know why it bugs me so much, but it does. Maybe it's because I know she doesn’t care about hockey. Perhaps because I know she’s probably critiquing everything, ready to throw some smart-ass comment my way later. Or maybe because I can’t stop looking at her. Panic crashes over me at the thought of losing focus and ruining this game because I keep looking at Kat. The buzzersounds, snapping me out of it, and I force my gaze back onto the ice. I shake my head, rolling out my shoulders. Focus, Knight.

The puck drops, and we’re off.

The first period is brutal. The Bears come at us hard, trying to set the tone early. It’s fast, physical, and precisely the kind of game I live for. I throw a hit along the boards, dig deep into the corners, and force their star forward to turn over the puck. By the time the second period rolls around, we’re tied two-two. Sweat drips down my neck as I skate to the bench, gripping my stick as I catch my breath.

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