Page 128 of Shots & Echoes

The ice beneath my skates became a battleground where desire clashed with ambition—and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep fighting against both forces pulling me in opposite directions.

I skated harder, pushing my body to its limits as the cold air whipped against my face. My frustration surged with each stride, and I could feel Knox's gaze burning into me like a brand. Every time I hit the boards or pivoted sharply, I imagined him standing there, assessing my every move, waiting for me to break.

But I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. Not today.

I gritted my teeth and drove forward, channeling every ounce of anger into my skating. Each push felt like an act of rebellion—against him, against Chris, against whatever this chaotic mess had become.

“Faster!” Knox shouted from the sidelines, his voice slicing through the frigid air.

I shot him a glare but didn’t slow down. Instead, I found another gear within myself and surged forward again. It was about more than just practice; it was about everything that had spiraled out of control since last night—the kiss with Chris that felt so wrong yet left me feeling empty and wanting.

I skated harder until the ice beneath me blurred into a white haze. Knox’s voice faded into the background as my mind raced through memories: his hands gripping my waist, the heat of his body pressed against mine in that locker room, in his office. It felt like fire coursing through my veins, igniting something deep inside that craved more than just hockey.

“Get your head in the game!” Knox barked again.

With every lap around the rink, I pushed back harder—harder than ever before—as if trying to outrun not just him but also myself. Each sharp turn became an outlet for all the emotions bubbling up within me—anger at Chris for even trying to kiss me when I knew where my heart truly lay and frustration at Knox for being so damn infuriatingly compelling.

As I took another hard turn near the boards, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were both playing a dangerous game—and neither of us wanted to admit how much we were willing to risk for it.

The whistle blew, echoing through the rink as Coach Callahan clapped his hands together. “All right, everyone, good work today! Get out of here, and don’t forget to hydrate!”

The team buzzed with excitement, laughter spilling into the cold air as they made their way to the door. I forced a smile and joined in, but my heart sank when I caught Knox's eye across the ice. He was leaning against the boards, arms crossed, jaw set.

“Evans. Stay,” he called out, voice sharp as glass.

The laughter faded as my teammates glanced back at me, expressions a mix of curiosity and sympathy. I offered a weak wave before they filed out, leaving me alone with him. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing off the noise and trapping me in this bubble of tension.

Knox stepped closer, his eyes piercing through me. “You’ve been sloppy lately.”

“Sloppy?” I echoed, frustration bubbling up. “I just skated my ass off.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You think that’s enough? You want that jersey? You’ve got to earn it.”

I swallowed hard as he moved to the center of the rink. The challenge in his gaze made my heart race—not from fear but from an intoxicating mix of anger and desire.

“Let’s go,” he said, motioning for me to follow.

Before I could think about it too much, I fell into step behind him as he led us to the far side of the rink. My breath quickened at the thought of what was coming next—he wasn’t going to let this slide easily.

“Suicides,” he announced abruptly.

I clenched my jaw but nodded. “Fine.”

“Not just one,” he added with a hint of menace in his tone. “As many as you can stomach."

My stomach dropped at that.What?The burn would be unbearable, but there was something about the challenge that made me want to push through it—push myself beyond limits I hadn’t even known existed.

“Ready?” Knox asked as he moved into position.

I steadied myself and took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

We started on his mark—my legs burning almost immediately with each sprint across the ice and back again.

“Come on! Move faster!” His voice cut through my exhaustion like a whip.

Each time I reached the far end and turned back, gasping for air, I could feel him watching me closely—assessing every movement—and it only fueled my determination further.

“You call that speed?” he barked again after what felt like an eternity.

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