Page 104 of Shots & Echoes

The whistle blew, cutting through the heavy air of the rink as Coach Callahan clapped his hands.

“All right, team! That’s a wrap for today. Great effort out there, especially you, Evans. Keep pushing yourself,” he said, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

I barely registered the praise as I pulled my helmet off and raked my fingers through damp hair. My heart still raced from practice—not just from exertion but from Knox’s smirk, the heat of his gaze that seemed to burn into me throughout the drills. The thought of him standing there watching made it hard to catch my breath.

“See you all tomorrow! Rest up!” Coach called out as he turned to leave, his voice fading behind me.

I stumbled into the locker room, shedding gear as I went. The cool air hit my flushed skin, a stark contrast to the fire that had ignited within me on the ice. I tossed my things aside and made my way to the shower, needing to wash away not just sweat but everything that churned inside me.

The water cascaded over me, and I closed my eyes, trying to clear my head. Thoughts of Knox invaded every corner of my mind—his hands on my waist, that fierce intensity in his eyes when we locked gazes. It was intoxicating and terrifying all at once.

By the time I stepped out and dried off, the locker room lay in silence. Alone now with nothing but my thoughts echoing around me, I plopped down on the bench and stared at my taped-up foot. Each breath felt heavy as I processed everything swirling inside.

My heart still raced—but not from drills.

It was from him.

From me.

From how hollow I felt when Sloane laughed with him earlier—how it clawed at something deep inside me. And suddenly it hit like a slap:

I wasn’t just fucking around anymore.

This wasn’t some reckless fling or game I could walk away from easily.

I wanted him.

Not just his hands or that wild look he got when we were close; I wanted him completely—his presence woven into every part of my life.

And that realization was dangerous.

Because Knox Callahan didn’t belong to anyone—not even me. And if I wanted him… well, then losing him?

That might destroy me more than losing the jersey ever could.

Chapter 18

Knox

Istood at the edge of the rink, hands jammed deep in my pockets, jaw locked tight as I watched Iris skate like she had something to prove. Every sharp pivot, every reckless stride screamed frustration, and I knew exactly where it was coming from.

Sloane.

Her laughter still rang in my ears, fake and sweet, a reminder of how easily she wormed her way into every conversation—how she played the part of someone I might have wanted in the past.

And how Iris had fuckingfeltit.

I’d seen the way her expression shifted when she caught Sloane flirting with me, that split second where jealousy burned bright enough to light up the entire goddamn rink.

And I liked it.

That realization twisted in my gut like a blade. Because it meant she cared. And caring? That was dangerous.

Not for me.

Forher.

I wasn’t some guy she could wrap around her little finger, wasn’t some safe bet. I was the fucking wreckage waiting tohappen, and if she got too close, she’d end up swallowed by it. But even knowing that, even feeling the weight of that warning hammering through my ribs, I couldn’t stop.

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