Iced Desires: BODY CHECK ME, PROFESSOR

Adrian Cross My life didn’t shatter all at once. It cracked the moment the final buzzer screamed and the scoreboard burned itself into my skull. I can still see it when I close my eyes — the Revenants celebrating on our ice, their captain grinning like he owned the world while my future bled out beneath my skates. The NHL scouts stopped calling after that night. My coach won’t return my messages. And the apartment I shared with my teammates already feels like a place I’ve been evicted from emotionally, if not physically. I built my entire existence around hockey. Without it, I’m a hollow shell rattling That’s why I'm here tonight. It all explains why I’ve chosen this dangerous path: revenge. Drag that psychopath through the mud with me. If I can't make it to the NHL, then he can't have it—not that his life depends on it as I do! My muscles are still aching from earlier scrums, but I ain't backing out now. I've been plotting this for far too long to quit at the finish line. The Ravenhurst mansion pulses with music and drunken laughter, every bass beat vibrating through the marble floors beneath my feet. Cigarette smoke burns my throat as partygoers brush past me, masked and careless. I keep my head down and my hands buried in my pockets, fingers wrapped around the small vial pressing against my palm. Revenge is a dangerous thing to carry. It hums under my skin like electricity. I shouldn’t even be in this city, let alone inside an invite-only party at the Revenants captain’s house. But desperation has a way of opening locked doors. Or kicking them down. Across the room, I spot Gabriel Graves. Even when drunk, he commands attention. A woman clings to him, laughing into his mouth while his hands roam each and every of her curves. The black mask framing his face is stitched with ravens — dramatic, theatrical. Perfectly on brand for the golden boy of the Revenants. The sight of him makes my jaw tighten. He took everything from me. Every cheap hit on the ice. Every dirty play the refs somehow missed. Every smug smile after we fell apart. My career didn’t just collapse — he helped shove it off the cliff. Tonight, I return the favor. Music blasts. People scream over it. But it all blurs into a distant background noise because I'm on borrowed time and in the middle of something I don't care to be a part of. I adjust my mask over my sweaty forehead and stuff my hands into my pockets to feel the vial before weaving through the crowd with ease, blending in with the rest of the partygoers until I reach one of the uniformed waiters who has been ferrying drinks to Gabriel's table for the last hour. “Sorry,” I murmur, slipping the vial’s content—the strongest knockout stuff on the market—into a glass before the man could notice. My pulse pounds as I retreat to the wall. I shift on my feet as I sink my teeth into my bottom clammy lip, waiting until Graves picks the same drink, and a smirk spreads across my face the moment he throws it down his throat in a whiff. “Bingo,” I whisper. He lasts less than five minutes before the drug hits. His steps grow sloppy as he heads for the staircase. His teammates too wasted to notice their captain slipping away. I follow at a distance. Don't get me wrong, I've dreamed of bringing down the Revenants' captain, but I am not that foolish to take him on head-on. The guy is massive-almost twice my size, let alone the bunch of teammates and guards to his organisation that would easily break my bones by just sensing my ill intentions towards their “leader”. So I had to be creative on this one. After all, I ain't a fists guy. I don’t like loud, messy fights. I love clean fixes. Quiet. Upstairs, the hallway is dim and thick with muffled moans and drunken laughter leaking from half-closed doors. Gabriel stumbles into a bedroom and slams it shut behind him. My heart rhythm taps into a steady rhythm of adrenaline. This is it. I slip inside before the latch clicks and ease the door closed. Silence crashes over the room, broken only by the shallow breathing of the man sprawled face-down on the bed. Step one: done! The plan unfolds in my head with ruthless clarity. Photos. Evidence. A scandal explosive enough to stain his spotless reputation and raise questions about everything he’s built. By morning, anonymous tips will be circulating. Rumors of doping. Of reckless behavior. Of a captain spiraling out of control. The league eats its heroes alive when they fall. I slip off my mask and turn around — and freeze. Something’s wrong. The man is shirtless, his back smooth where Gabriel’s tattoos should be.My stomach drops. I step closer, unease prickling along my spine. He’s taller than I remember. Broader in a different way. I take tentative steps towards his body and flip him onto his back. “Holy f**k! This can't be! This is not Gabriel Graves. Gabriel has always had a ton of tattoos; this time, he has a sleek chest, save the single line of ink (Chinese maybe) across his left side of the chest. And his face? I crawl my gaze to his face and yank off his mask, revealing damp, tousled, dark-brown hair, which deeply contrasts Gabriel’s hazardous and unruly—typical rat's nest. I dart out my tongue to wet my lips before caressing my gaze all over his face. His sharp, chiseled jawline is shadowed with a soft stubble. Damn. He's… unfairly handsome! And completely not my prey. He’s either one of the party goers who landed on my hunting trail or a trap. Either way, there is no way I am waiting for what's going to happen. Panic slices through my adrenaline high. I have to get out of here! I back toward the door, every instinct screaming at me to run. I reach for the handle — “Easy there,” a calm voice says behind me. I go still. “You can’t just sprint out of here.” My pulse roars in my ears. Maybe he’s talking to someone else. Maybe if I don’t move— “I know you’re there,” he continues, voice low and steady. “Turn around while it’s only me. I can’t promise the others will be as understanding.” The room feels suddenly smaller. The air is heavier. Slowly, I turn. And come face to face with the mistake that might ruin me.