Page 47 of Icebound Hearts

I storm past him, refusing to look back, but I feel his stare on me the entire way.

The crowd gets louder as Alexei and I approach the scoring area. Everyone gathers around the screen as our final score flashes across the monitor.

A hundred and eight points. We won Gold again. I let out a breath, the tension in my chest finally releasing as Alexei pulls me into a tight hug.

“Another win for us, Malyshka!” he laughs, lifting me off my feet before spinning me. I laugh, but my mind is still clouded. We did it. We won. And yet, my thoughts are tangled in him. I glanceover my shoulder, my eyes instinctively searching the crowd, and of course, I find him immediately.

Aiden’s standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching. He’s not smiling, not clapping, just watching. Something about it sends a shiver down my spine.

But before I can process what it means and figure out what the hell is going on between us, I hear Alina’s voice calling my name.

“Kat! We’re celebrating tonight!” I snap my focus back, forcing myself to push Aiden out of my head. Right. Celebrating. I glance at Alexei, and he grins, already knowing my answer. “Hell yes, we are.” Tonight, I’m not thinking about Aiden Knight. I refuse.

The celebration is in full swing when we arrive at the bar. Music thrums through the air and the neon lights cast a moody glow over the packed crowd. Alina, Alexei, Maddie, and I push through the sea of bodies, heading straight for the VIP section Roman somehow managed to snag for us. It should be a perfect night. We won. We dominated. I should be riding the high of victory, soaking in the attention, basking in the feeling of success. But instead, my eyes keep searching for him.

The moment I spot him, my stomach twists because he’s not alone. Some tall blonde girl is draped over him, fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm like she has every right to. She’s laughing at something he says, flipping her hair like girls do when they want to be noticed. And Aiden— Aiden is letting her.

Something bitter curdles in my stomach. It’s stupid. So stupid. I have no claim over him. He’s an arrogant, cocky, infuriating hockey player who gets under my skin like no one else. I don’tlike it. I don’t like the way she’s touching him. I don’t like how he leans in slightly like he’s enjoying the attention. And I don’t like the way my chest tightens and my hands clench into fists at my sides.

“Kat.” Alina’s voice snaps me out of it. I turn, forcing a smile that probably looks as fake as it feels.

“What?” She follows my gaze, and the second she sees what I’m looking at, her lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Oh my God,” she says, sing-song. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not.” A scoff slips past my lips at the ridiculous idea.

Alina grins. “You so are.” I sip my drink, ignoring the heat rising in my cheeks. “Please. He can do whatever he wants. It’s his life.”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t care.”

“Right,” Alina says with a teasing smile.

“I don’t!” I insist. Alina raises a brow. “So, if I dared you to go over there right now and introduce yourself to his little friend, you’d do it?” I freeze, my throat tightening. Shit. Alina laughs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I grit my teeth.

“It’s not jealousy.” She pats my shoulder, looking way too amused for my liking. “Whatever you say, Ale.”

I groan, turning away, determined not to look at him anymore. Instead, I focus on Alexei, who’s already on his second drink, gesturing wildly as he tells some dramatic story to Roman and Will. I slide onto the couch next to him. “You’re already this drunk?” He smirks, leaning over to clink his glass against mine. “I’m celebrating, Malyshka.” I roll my eyes but take a sip anyway, letting the warmth of the alcohol settle in my stomach. It works—for about two minutes. Because then, I hear her giggling again. What the fuck is she laughing at? Aiden isn’t even that funny.

I make the mistake of glancing over just in time to see her press a hand against Aiden’s chest, leaning in close. Too close. Aiden doesn’t push her away.

He doesn’t even look at me. Something inside of me snaps. I don’t think—I just act. Before I can stop myself, I grab Alexei’s hand and pull him onto the dance floor. He stumbles slightly, laughing. “Kat, what—”

“Dance with me.” He raises a brow. “Oh? Is this to make someone jealous? I’m gay, it won’t work.” I glare. “Shut up and dance,” Alexei smirks but obliges, spinning me into the rhythm of the music. The bass pounds in my chest, my heart hammering with something far more complicated than adrenaline. I let myself get lost in it—the movement, the heat, the feeling of Alexei’s hands at my waist as we move.

I feel eyes on me. With every move I make, my skin burns from the attention. I don’t even have to look to know Aiden is watching. It’s like a magnet, the way my body instinctively knows where he is. I risk a glance, and sure enough, his eyes are locked on me, dark and unreadable. The girl is still talking to him, but he’s not listening. His jaw is tight, and his grip on his drink is stiff. Good, be jealous, Asshole.

I spin closer to Alexei, laughing a little louder than necessary. Glancing at Aiden again, I see him move. One second, he’s across the room. The next, he’s right behind me, his presence demanding.

Alexei notices first. Before he can say anything, a warm hand wraps around my wrist, tugging me back. I turn—And I crash into Aiden. My breath catches. His grip is firm, his eyes burning into mine, and suddenly, the air between us is thick.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice steady despite the way my heart is pounding. His jaw clenches. “What the hell was that?” I blink. “What was what?” Aiden narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t play dumb, Angel Face.” I tilt my head, pretending to think.

“Ohhh, do you mean me dancing? Because last I checked, you looked plenty entertained over there.” His grip tightens on myhand, as if he doesn’t want to let go of me. “That’s what this is about? You’re jealous?”

“I don’t care what you do, Aiden.” I snap, glaring into his eyes. His expression darkens. “Bullshit.” We’re too close. I should pull away. I don’t. His hand is still wrapped around my wrist, his thumb absently brushing against my skin.

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