Love on ice

chapter 2

Grayson POV

Noise. Pain. The taste of blood.

And peaches.

Not fake, syrupy peaches the kind that comes from sun-warmed skin, ripe and almost too sweet. The scent cut through the chaos like a blade, dragging me back from the ringing void.

I blinked hard. My helmet had shifted sideways, vision smeared in a watery blur, but one thing came into focus: I wasn’t on the ice anymore. I was in someone’s lap.

Wide eyes stared up at me, startled and luminous. Auburn hair jammed into a crooked bun. Flannel shirt soft and rumpled against my gloves. A small, stiff body trapped beneath mine.

And that peach scent is warm, stubborn, alive.

Omega.

Hell.

I yanked off my helmet, gulping air that tasted like iron and sweat. “Are you hurt?”

She just stared, lips parted, eyes trying to catch up with what had just happened. Her breath shivered against my cheek, faint but enough to send a jolt through me.

A high-pitched shriek ripped in from the side. “Molly! Oh my God, are you okay?”

Molly.

The omega flinched at the name, blinked fast, and shook her head like she needed to shake the whole night off. “I…I’m fine. You..are you…”

“Alive,” I muttered, pushing off her legs even as my ribs screamed. Fire raced along my side, sharp and hot, but I forced a smirk. “You’ll live.”

The medics barreled in, shouting orders over the crowd’s restless roar. One of them tried to shove me back. “Move, we’ve got him.”

“I’m standing,” I growled, staggering upright. The pain doubled, but I locked it behind clenched teeth. No way was I folding in front of half the damn arena.

The crowd went wild as if I’d pulled off a miracle instead of nearly cracking my ribs in a cheap shot. They didn’t see the truth. that I was one wrong breath from collapsing.

Still, I glanced back. Couldn’t help it.

She was watching me. Not with fear. Not with awe. Just… fixed. Like I’d crashed into her world and refused to leave.

************************************************

The locker room hit me like a furnace—steam, sweat, and the sting of disinfectant. Gloves hit the floor with wet slaps, curses ricocheted off the metal lockers.

“You’re insane,” Jensen barked, stripping tape from his wrists. “Could’ve ended up in traction.”

“Would’ve been worth it,” I muttered, peeling at my pads with hands that didn’t want to cooperate.

“Christ, Wood,” the captain snapped from across the room. “Leave the vendettas outside. We need goals, not blood.”

I didn’t bother answering. My ribs throbbed in time with my pulse, but my head wasn’t in the game anymore. It was back on the barrier, where the smell of peaches had cut through ice and sweat and noise.

Jensen caught the drift and smirked, his grin as sharp as a stick blade. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you just saw God… or a girl.”

I slammed my helmet into the cubby hard enough to make the metal ring. “Drop it.”

The room went quiet for half a heartbeat. Everyone knew the warning in my tone. Jensen only raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing that infuriating grin.

************************************************

The medic cornered me before I could escape. “Ribs are bruised. Could be worse. You need ice and at least a night off.”

“Not happening.”

“Grayson….”

“Tape me up.”

He cursed under his breath but started wrapping. The sting of cold spray bit into my skin while I stared at the wall, willing the scent of peaches out of my head.

Jensen leaned on the bench like he had all night. “So… what’s her name?”

My jaw tightened. “Don’t know.”

“But you want to.”

I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. “I said drop it.”

He chuckled, low and knowing. “Sure thing, Captain Stonewall.” he said

************************************************

We lost.

Not because of me. I stayed in, ribs screaming with every shift but because Haskin scored twice, milking the penalty he’d started. The crowd booed, plastic cups and popcorn raining onto the ice as we trudged off like condemned men.

Reporters shouted questions about the hit, the call, my temper. I ignored them all. The scoreboard didn’t matter. My head wasn’t on the numbers anymore. It was out there somewhere, searching the stands for a face that probably didn’t belong to me in the first place.

I slipped out the side exit after the chaos thinned, hoodie pulled over my damp hair, duffle slung across one shoulder. Every breath burned, ribs wrapped tight beneath the sweatshirt.

Then I saw her.

Molly.

She stood near the edge of the parking lot with her loud blonde friend, arms crossed as if she could fold herself into the flannel. The friend buzzed with leftover adrenaline, re-enacting the crash with wild hand gestures. Molly… not so much. She kept her chin tucked, eyes scanning the ground like she wanted to vanish into the asphalt.

I should’ve turned the other way. Omegas weren’t my problem. Not anymore.

But my feet ignored every reasonable thought.

“Hey.”

She jumped like I’d fired a starting gun. Her head snapped up, green eyes locking on mine—sharp, wary, and way too clear for someone who’d just been flattened by a two-hundred-pound forward. Up close, she was even smaller than I’d thought. Delicate. But her voice came out steady, laced with irritation.

“You nearly crushed me.”

A corner of my mouth tilted. “Saved you the ticket price. Front row became floor seats.”

Her brows pinched. “Not funny.”

“You hurt?”

She hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. “No. Just… rattled.”

Her friend swooped in like a storm, eyes wide with recognition. “You’re Grayson Wood, aren’t you? Molly, do you know who this….”

“Alexis,” Molly cut in sharply, snagging the blonde’s sleeve to pull her back. Her focus snapped to me, narrowed and cutting. “Why are you here?”

I blinked, more amused than I should’ve been. “Because I walk to my car like everyone else?”

“I want you to leave.”

That landed harder than it should have. I stepped closer despite the flare of pain in my ribs, letting the hoodie shadow my face. “You’ve got a sharp tongue for someone who smelled like she was about to sway.”

Her breath caught, barely audible. “Excuse me?”

“You think I didn’t notice?” My voice dropped lower, the instinctive edge slipping out before I could cage it.

Her pulse jumped in the hollow of her throat. Color flooded her cheeks, a flush that had nothing to do with the cold night air. She opened her mouth, but no sound followed.

Alexis gawked between us, whispering like we were a scene out of some late-night drama. “This is insane. Do I need popcorn?”

Molly snapped out of it first, tightening her grip on her friend’s arm. “We’re leaving.”

She turned quickly, but not before the scent of peaches hit me again sun-warmed, stubborn, impossible to ignore.

And I knew.

This wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.