(Danica)
The ice felt different today — colder, sharper, like it knew all the secrets I was trying to keep buried.
We were in the middle of a full-team scrimmage, the arena lights bright overhead, the usual pre-game intensity crackling through the air even though this was only practice. Caleb had insisted on running it hard, his voice cutting across the rink like a whip. He stayed close to me the entire time, closer than strategy required, his body angled like a shield every time I touched the puck. His jealousy from breakfast still lingered in the way his gloved hand brushed my lower back during line changes, hidden from the team but burning through my jersey.
Kane’s messages from last night kept flashing in my mind.
“I don’t want you hurt. Not like Lila was.”
“Maybe they’re not comp
