Page 74 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
“I know,” I whisper, my heart pounding in my chest. “But let’s not think about it tonight. Just…, stay. We will deal with our dislike for each other tomorrow.”
His hesitation is brief, but then he nods, his arms wrapping around me as he pulls me into his chest.
“So…, would it be weird if I asked something right now?”
Liam chuckles, the sound low and a little shaky. “Considering what just happened? Go ahead. I doubt it will top that.”
I lean back slightly, meeting his gaze. There is a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but he does not pull away. “Would it be right to say we are exes? Or are we technically still dating?”
His brow furrows, and he tilts his head. “What?”
“Well,” I say, rubbing my eyes to clear the incoming sleep, “neither of us ever said the classic ‘I’m breaking up with you five years ago.’ So…, are we still, like…, together by default?”
He stares at me for a moment, then exhales. “Hazel, that’s….”
“Well, if it’s any consolation,” I say, drifting off to la la land, “you were a pretty decent boyfriend…, for a guy who didn’t officially break up with me.”
He tightens his hold on me, and for the first time in years, I feel like I am exactly where I’m meant to be.
Chapter twenty
Liam
The ice is a battleground, and we are in the middle of it. The sound of blades slicing through the cold is drowned out by the roar of the crowd. I can feel the vibration of the arena in my chest, the rhythm of the game pounding in my veins.
We’re facing off against the Titans, one of the fiercest teams we’ve gone toe-to-toe with for years. Their defense is brutal, and their forwards are fast. Every shift feels like a war of attrition, and right now, we are barely holding on.
We are up by one, but the tension in the air tells me it is not enough. Not by a long shot. I am on the bench, leaning forward, watching every move with laser focus.
And the Titans score.
The score is tied - 3-3 - with just fifteen minutes left on the clock. The stakes? Huge. Our playoff hopes are on the line. We cannot afford to slip up.
I watch Azul – he has been all over the place tonight, a ghost on the ice. His game’s off, his timing’s sloppy. I can tell, even from the bench, something is not clicking.
Coach is on edge; his eyes never leave the ice. “What is wrong with you, Azul? Get your head in the game… You are playing like you’ve got something to prove!” He shouts, voice sharp. “But you are not proving anything. Not to me. Not to them. You are giving them everything they want!”
The Titans’ forward, Stevens, breaks through our defense again, skating like a freight train. I watch as he pulls a quick fake, sending our goalie, Blake, to the right. I hold my breath, my eyes trained on Blake and the puck, but Blake does not bite. The puck is almost in, but Blake stops it.
Thank goodness. I would absolutely have to give that dude a kiss after the game.
During a time-out, the Coach requests a change.
“Azul, get back here, and you, Liam,” Coach’s eyes land on me, “you, get in there.”
The crowd’s roar fades into a low hum as I step onto the ice, the chill creeping up my spine. The puck’s passed to me, and I take it with everything that I have got.
The Titans are closing in. Their captain, Ryan Pierce, is a beast. The guy’s a wall, and he is not giving me an inch.
I fake left, his stick coming up to block the shot. Then I snap right, darting past him like a flash. The crowd goes wild as I surge toward the net, the goalie square in my sights. I hear the scrape of my skates on the ice and feel the pressure building in my chest. The goalie’s eyes lock with mine - he is ready for me, but I have got one more move left.
With a swift motion, I flick the puck toward the net, a fast wrist shot that catches him off guard. For a split second, I see his reaction - too slow, his glove coming up just a fraction too late - and then it is in. The net shakes and the crowd erupts. I barely have time to process it before I am buried under a pile of teammates, the roar of victory flooding my ears.
4-3.
But then, just as quickly, the euphoria fades. The game is not over yet. Not by a long shot.
“Stay focused!” Coach yells, his voice cutting through the noise. “Don’t let up now! Keep that intensity high!”
