Chapter Eleven :Elena
581 Words
I found Rowan alone in the training room after midnight.
Which honestly should’ve terrified me.
Instead, my pulse only sped up for entirely different reasons.
The hockey arena was nearly empty after practice, lights dimmed low while rain hammered against the windows outside.
Rowan sat shirtless on one of the benches, athletic tape wrapped loosely around one bruised hand. Fresh cuts marked his knuckles.
His jaw was tense when he looked up and saw me standing in the doorway.
“You lost?”
I crossed my arms. “My brother said you broke your hand tonight.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s bleeding through the tape.”
“Still fine.”
Typical.
I sighed dramatically before walking toward him.
“You’re impossible.”
His dark eyes followed every step I took.
Dangerous idea coming here alone.
Very dangerous.
But Rowan looked tired tonight.
Not cocky.
Not cruel.
Just exhausted.
And somehow that version of him was worse for my self-control.
“Sit still,” I muttered, grabbing the medical kit off the counter.
He leaned back slightly, watching me kneel in front of him.
“You always take care of guys who hit people for fun?”
“You’re injured.”
“You sound concerned.”
“I’m not.”
A slow grin appeared.
“There she is.”
I rolled my eyes and carefully unwrapped the bloody tape around his hand.
The second my fingers touched his skin, Rowan inhaled sharply.
The tension between us changed instantly.
Hotter.
Closer.
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
I focused on cleaning the cuts while Rowan stared at me hard enough to burn holes through my skin.
“You smell good,” he said quietly.
My stomach flipped.
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
“You make it hard to think normally.”
My hands stilled.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
“Rowan—”
“You know what kills me?” he interrupted softly.
I looked up before I could stop myself.
Big mistake.
Because his face was suddenly too close.
“All week,” he murmured, “I’ve tried staying away from you.”
My breath caught.
“And?”
“And you keep showing up.”
The room felt unbearably warm now.
My hand still rested against his chest for balance, his heartbeat strong beneath my palm.
Then Rowan’s fingers slid slowly along my wrist.
Gentle.
Possessive.
My pulse jumped violently.
“You should move away from me,” he whispered.
But he didn’t let go.
Neither did I.
The air between us cracked with tension.
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
And for one reckless second, I thought he might kiss me.
Maybe I would’ve let him.
The thought terrified me.
Then the training room door opened.
Luca froze instantly in the doorway.
Silence crashed through the room.
His eyes dropped to Rowan sitting shirtless in front of me.
To my hand against Rowan’s chest.
To Rowan still holding my wrist.
Every ounce of warmth vanished from the room.
“Elena,” Luca said quietly.
The hurt in his voice hit me first.
Then the anger.
Rowan slowly stood.
Protective instinct flashing across Luca’s face immediately.
“What the hell is this?” Luca asked coldly.
I stepped backward quickly. “It’s not what you think.”
But even I could hear how weak that sounded.
Because Rowan’s dark eyes never left mine.
And Luca noticed that too.
The jealousy that crossed his face looked absolutely lethal.
- Writer
