Grayson
The cold air hits me the second I step onto the rink, but it might as well be f*****g tropical for how little it cools the rage burning under my skin. My mind keeps dragging me back to last night—Raelynn's hands shaking like autumn leaves, her face flushed with panic, the way she destroyed that letter before I could catch even a glimpse of what had her so terrified.
I'm not a goddamn i***t. She's scared out of her mind. She's hiding something big. And the need to know what is eating me alive from the inside out.
"Alright, assholes," I snap, clapping my gloves together so hard the sound echoes off the empty stands. The team fumbles onto the ice like a bunch of hungover toddlers. "Coach isn't here, so that means I'm in charge. You know the drill. Don't test me today."
They grumbl
