Offside Hearts

Chapter 2

The number 9 on his jersey was unmissable, but the aura surrounding him felt far more dangerous than just his rep on the ice.

He cut through the sea of people with effortless poise, looking like he owned every inch of the madness without trying.

Before I could force my eyes away, he was standing right beside me.

"You don't exactly look like you fit in here," he said, his voice low, deep, and rough around the edges.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How ironic—I was thinking the exact same thing about you."

A slow, lazy smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I'm Ashton."

"Isla," I answered, keeping my tone crisp and guarded. "And I'm only here because my roommates refused to leave me behind."

"Not a fan of post-game parties?" His gaze swept across the room for a quick second before pinning back on me.

"Hardly," I admitted straight up. "But I can stick it out for one night."

He held my gaze, studying my expression as if trying to figure out whether I was bad news or just another challenge to c***k.

"Well, Isla, welcome to the madness," he murmured, lifting his cup in a mock toast. "Watch out. It might end up growing on you."

I tapped my cup against his, feeling the sudden charge in the air far more than the drink in my hand.

"Don't hold your breath."

A low laugh escaped his throat, but beneath the casual exterior, a sharp tension crackled.

Something unspoken suspended in the cold air between us.

The surrounding party went on, yet everything else faded into background noise. And for a heartbeat, it was just the two of us: two total strangers carrying guarded secrets.

Then the bass dropped again, harder, heavier, echoing off every wall and ruining the moment.

Ashton vanished as quickly as he’d appeared, absorbed into the thick crowd in an instant.

I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to shake the lingering heat off my skin. My fingers tightened around the edge of my plastic cup while my eyes swept through the dim room, quietly searching for another glimpse of him.

Nadia and Cleo came back beside me, their easy laughter cutting through the noise.

"Well?" Cleo asked, an eager glint in her eye. "How was Mr. Mysterious?"

I crossed my arms, offering a dry smirk. "Intriguing."

Mia arched an eyebrow. "Sounds like a dare."

"Or a warning," I countered, keeping my expression cool.

They traded amused glances, but I shrugged it off. There was no way I was letting some arrogant team captain get under my skin.

The rest of the night blurred together in a haze.

I went through the motions, but Ashton’s words clung to my thoughts anyway. There was this silent challenge waiting to play out.

Something I was not sure I was ready to take.

The drive back to our apartment was quiet. Nadia and Cleo hummed along to the playlist in the front seat, their hushed chatter swallowed by the music.

I rested my forehead against the glass of the window, watching streetlights blur past.

The party had been loud, suffocating, and thoroughly exhausting. Yet behind all the noise, it was those fleeting second and the weight of Ashton’s stare, the low, rasping cadence of his voice that kept looping in my head.

I wasn't the kind of girl to lose her head over cocky hockey stars. Not after everything I’d survived.

But Ashton wasn't just another athlete with an ego. There was something unpredictable beneath his surface. Something dangerous.

When we stepped inside, the stillness of our apartment hit like both a sanctuary and a trap.

I tossed my keys onto the counter and slipped out of my jacket, a sudden shiver running down my spine as the cold air touched my skin.

Nadia crashed onto the sofa with a wide grin. "Alright, spill. What's the verdict?"

I shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. "Let's just say I'm not swept off my feet. But I'm definitely not bored."

Harper let out a light laugh. "Sounds like progress to me."

I shook my head, forcing the thought out of my mind before it could take root. I don't have room for distractions right now.

Not while my past was still clawing its way back to me.

Yet as I lay staring at the ceiling hours later, Ashton's lazy smirk lingered in the dark hinting a silent warning, or maybe a promise I wasn't going to be able to ignore.