Page 85 of Unleashed

I laughed, the sound less forced than I expected.

“You seem good, Viggy,” he added, studying my face. “Better than I expected after that tribute piece.”

My spine locked. “What tribute?”

But he was already moving on, voice carrying back as he headed for the stairs. “Come on, got some people you should meet. Shep Landon’s reffing the youth team scrimmage on the big ice, so it’s guaranteed to be chaos...”

We hit the ground floor, pushed through a set of heavy double doors, and passed through a mini version of a tunnel to the main ice rink. Hoss cut left and we stood on the spectator side of panes of plexiglass while a herd of kids tore up the ice.

Two refs in striped jerseys chased the action, more cheerleaders than officials. The bigger one—had to be Shep—kept dramatically falling whenever the littlest players got near him, sending them into fits of giggles as they “deked” around him. His partner played it straight, whistle between his teeth, but his eyes crinkled with barely contained laughter every time Shep hit the ice.

Pure joy on that sheet. No pressure, no expectations. Just kids learning to love the game while their parents pressed against the glass, phones out, capturing every moment. The kind of beginning that made me remember why I’d fallen for hockey in the first place.

Movement caught my eye through the observation windows. A flash of dark hair. Familiar curves.

Fuck.

Like a magnet snapping to true north, my focus locked onto Lily before my brain had a chance to shut it down. She stood near the boards, talking to another woman with a camera rig. No power suit today, no polished armor—just that loose, flowy top that slipped off her shoulders, her hair pulled into the kind of messy bun that used to drive me insane. The version of her I’d only seen in stolen moments between games. The one that felt real.

My muscles went tight, body reacting before logic could catch up. Three months since Austin. Since she’d taken my trust and fed it to the cameras. That should have been enough time to kill this... whateverthiswas. This instant awareness. This pull, raw and unwelcome, clawing at the space between us like time and distance wasn’t enough to sever our connection.

I forced a breath through my nose. Forced my shoulders to stay loose. Three months should’ve been enough. Ithadto be enough.

A couple of players crashed into the boards near her, their shrieks of laughter a stark contrast to how my gut twisted at the sight of her. Every instinct screamed to clear the zone. Fall back. Regroup. But my body had other ideas—already tracking her movements, cataloging the subtle changes three months had carved into her face.

She looked... settled somehow. Less sharp edges. Less Hollywood polish. Like she’d found something here in this small town that had smoothed away that desperate hunger for industry validation. She looked like the woman I’d come to know. The woman who had first snuck past my defenses that night in the rain. The woman who had the softest skin, made the sweetest little sounds when…

Get your fucking head on straight, Vignier.

But there was nowhere to go. No escaping the memories. No escaping the woman. Just me, frozen in place while the sight of her lit up every nerve ending I’d thought I’d finally gotten under control. The familiar scent of citrus and spice ghosted through my memory like a sucker punch I should have seen coming.

Shep blew his whistle, setting off another round of chaos on the ice. Parents laughed and cheered. Life going on all around me while I stood there like an idiot, unable to tear my gaze from the woman who’d wrecked me more thoroughly than any injury ever could.

“Jack.” Hoss’s voice cut through my spiral. “Need you to meet some folks. This is Shep Landon—taking advantage of his off-season to be a pain in my ass around here. You know him, of course.”

I dragged my attention away from Lily, forced myself to focus on the Renegades forward extending his hand. Built like a tank, with the easy confidence of a guy who’d earned his spot in the show. His handshake matched his build—solid, no-nonsense.

“Welcome to Three Corners,” he said, already turning to wave over a cluster of people watching the action on the ice. “Some of the parents. They’re excited to have you here.”

I nodded, shifted into captain mode. Let muscle memory take over as names and faces blurred past. Years of PR training kickED in, keeping me functional despite the charge of awareness prickling my skin. Because of course Lily was moving closer, her colleague shouldering a complicated camera rig.

“We’re finalizing some promotional material for the youth team,” Shep was saying. “Lily’s company is handling our video package for the sponsors.”

“Sutton.” I kept my voice neutral. Indifferent. Like my pulse wasn’t trying to hammer through my ribcage.

“Viggy.” Her voice carried that hint of husk that used to drive me crazy. Still did, if I was being honest. “Welcome to Virginia.”

“You two know each other?” Shep glanced between us, oblivious to the tension crackling through the air.

“We’ve met.” The words came out rough. Inadequate for describing everything she’d been. Everything we could have been.

Her fingers found that spot on her wrist—the tell I’d learned meant she was fighting for control. “I did some work with the Aces last season.”

One of the parents called out Shep’s name and with a nod, he excused himself. Hoss stood a few feet away beside another parent, and Lily’s camara person had fixed her attention on one of the kids still on the ice.

Great. Last thing I needed, trapped alone with Lily Sutton. I shifted, a breath away from stepping back toward the tunnel, when her voice caught me.

“Did you ever watch it?” she asked, voice soft. Private. “The thumb drive?”

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