Page 6 of Icebound Hearts

“I own it when I reserve it, Goldie.“ I scoff, brushing past him and storming inside the house. I can hear him chuckling behind me, his voice carrying easily. “This is gonna be fun.”

I head straight to my room, my blood still simmering. Of all the hockey players I could’ve been forced to live with, it had to be him. He’s such an arrogant ass. And worst of all, I find him unbelievably hot anyway. The way his muscles tensed when he leaned against the doorway, and his tattoos curled around his biceps—ugh. Why did he have to look like that? I groan, flopping onto my bed pressing my hands to my burning face. This is going to be the longest six months. A sudden knock at my door causes me to jolt up.

“Go away,” I call. The door swings open anyway—because, apparently, boundaries are just a suggestion in this house. To my relief, it’s Roman, not Aiden. Not that I wanted it to be Aiden.

Roman holds up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, not the enemy. Just came to check in.” I sigh, relaxing my shoulders. “Sorry. I just- this day has been a lot.” Roman nods, stepping inside and leaning against my desk. “Yeah, I can tell. You wanna talk about it?” I hesitate, then exhale.

“It’s my dad, Jake. He-” I pause, searching for the right words, ”he wasn’t in my life until recently, and now he’s trying to throw money at me. Like that’ll magically fix everything.” Roman tilts his head. “The car outside?” I nod. “I didn’t ask for it. I don’twantit. But he thinks expensive gifts make up for years of not being my father.” Roman stays quiet for a moment, then shrugs. “You could sell it.”

I blink. “What?” He grins. “Sell it. Donate the money. Or keep it for yourself. If he wants to play the ‘rich, guilty dad’ card, at leastyoushould benefit.” I snort. “That’s actually… not the worst idea.” Roman taps the side of his temple. “Genius, I know.” I shake my head, smiling slightly. Roman’s easygoing, playful energy is precisely what I needed after the nightmare of a day.

“You know,” he says, crossing his arms, “Aiden’s notthatbad.” I scoff. “Heisthat bad.” Roman chuckles. “Nah, he’s just… rough around the edges. Give it time. You might like him.” I arch abrow. “Doubt it.” That is what I say, but I mean when hell freezes over.

“We’ll see, Kit-Kat,” he smirks. I grin at the nickname, pointing at him. “You heard my friends calling me that at the rink, didn’t you?” Roman shakes his head in denial as he grins at me, “What? I just made that up right now.” I laugh at his sarcasm, feeling better after talking to him. I think Roman and I will be good friends.

“But since Aiden kicked you off the ice earlier, I might have a way to fix that.” I raise a brow, intrigued. “Go on.”

“He gets that extra hour because he volunteers to teach kids to skate at six a.m. They’re looking for more volunteers; if you sign up, he has to share the rink with you. He can’t kick you out.” Aw, the asshole has a heart. A slow grin spreads across my face. “Roman, you just earned mega brownie points.”

With that, Roman heads for the door, throwing me a wink before disappearing into the hallway. I exhale, flopping back onto my bed. Aiden. Jake. This ridiculous housing situation. I just wanted ice time, not a damn soap opera. I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe deeply. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up. I’ll skate. I’ll focus. And I’ll prove to Jake, Aiden, and myself that nothing will stand in my way. Not even a cocky, insufferable hockey captain with a face that could ruin lives.

Chapter Four

KATERINA

After an hour of relentless begging, charming smiles, and shameless ass-kissing, Mrs. Richards finally caved. Barely. She wasn’t thrilled with my persistence, but after I dramatically explained how desperately I needed the extra ice time, she sighed, rubbing her temples like I was responsible for her impending migraine.

“Fine,” she said, exasperated. “You can start tomorrow. 8 AM sharp. And before you ask, you cannot pick a different partner.” And that’s how I set myself up to be assisting Aiden fucking Knight. I tried pleading again, but Mrs. Richards's look made me snap my mouth shut. Beggars can’t be choosers. At least I had secured the ice tonight. And the best part? I was about to ruin Aiden’s little private practice session.

Smirking to myself, I make my way toward the rink, anticipation buzzing under my skin. Oh, he was not going to like this. I spend time lacing up my skates, ensuring each loop is snug. Tonight, I’ve opted for a sleek black bodysuit, the long sleeves hugging my arms like a second layer of skin. My high ponytail is tight, and my headband keeps my headphones secure. When my skates touch the ice, I toss my skate guards onto the bench and exhale deeply. The world fades when I push off, gliding effortlesslyacross the rink. Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey floods my ears, drowning out everything—every thought, frustration, and lingering bitterness toward my father, my situation, and Aiden.

Here on the ice, I’m weightless. Untouchable. I lose myself in my routine, executing a series of quad jumps, feeling the sharp bite of the cold air against my skin. Each successful landing sends a rush of satisfaction through me. The rink belongs to me in these moments—until I slam hard into a solid, warm chest.

Two strong hands grip my waist, steadying me before I can fall over. My breath hitches as I lift my gaze and lock eyes with Aiden. Fuck.

I barely register Lana, still crooning in my ears as I stare up at him. Were his eyes this pretty yesterday, or did I bump my head somewhere? The world blurs, my heart pounding far too loudly in my chest. Aiden frowns, his lips moving, but I can’t hear him over the music. He snaps his fingers before my face, dragging me back to reality.

Annoyed, I reach under my headband and yank out an earbud. “What?”

Aiden sighs, his hands on my waist lingering a second too long before he finally lets go.

“Angel Face,” he starts, exasperation clear in his tone. “I thought we talked about this yesterday. This is my ice time. It’s booked for me. Not you—me.”

I smirk, knowing exactly how much this is about to piss him off. “Well, now it’s my ice time, too.”

His frown deepens. “What the hell does that mean?” Aiden asks, confused. “Your dear friend Roman gave me some stellar advice yesterday,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. “So I chatted with Mrs. Richards, and guess what?”

His jaw ticks, and he clearly understands where this is going. “What?”

“I’m the newest junior coach,” I exclaim with a grin.

I watch as he processes my words, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep, frustrated breath. His jaw clenches once, then unclenches.

“Oh, and the best part?” I lean in slightly, enjoying the way his dark eyes narrow. “We have to teach together.” Aiden exhales harshly through his nose. “You’re kidding.” I grin harder.

“Nope. And before you even think about going to Mrs. Richards to get reassigned, don’t bother. I already tried, and she shut me down.” He turns his face away, clearly attempting to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. I can’t help but admire the sharp line of his jaw, the way his black fitted shirt hugs his every muscle, the flex of his forearms as he crosses them over his broad chest—

“Fine,” he finally says. “We’ll share the rink. The left side is mine. I’ll put a cone in the middle, and you better not fucking cross it.” I raise my hands in surrender. “Sure, Aiden. Whatever you say.”

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