31

CHAPTER FOUR: THE SECRET ARRANGEMENT

We met three nights later at Elias’s apartment, a quiet, modern place on the edge of the city, far from the arena and the team’s usual hangouts. The blinds were drawn tight, the lights dim, and the air was thick with uncertainty as we sat around the small kitchen table, three mugs of coffee going cold between us.

Elias spoke first, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of every risk we were taking. “The league has a strict policy. No romantic or personal relationships between players and team staff. If front office finds out, you’ll be fired immediately — no exceptions. Silas and I could be suspended, or worse — traded to different teams, split up permanently. Our reputations would be ruined, and the team would fall apart. We’ve worked our whole lives for this, and one wrong move could take it all away.”

“I don’t care about the risk,” Silas said immediately, leaning forward, his hands clenched on the table. “I care about her. And I care about us. If we have to be careful, we will. If we have to hide, we will. But I’m not walking away from this — from any of this — just because it’s hard.” He turned to me, his gaze softening. “What do you want? Because whatever it is, we’ll follow your lead.”

I looked from one to the other — Elias, cautious and protective, already calculating every way to keep us safe; Silas, bold and passionate, ready to fight whatever came our way. “I want this,” I said, my voice clear despite my nerves. “But I want us to be smart too. No one can know — not yet. No texts that could be seen, no meetings at the arena when anyone else is around, no lingering touches in public. We meet here, or somewhere completely private. We keep it quiet, until we figure out what to do next. And if at any point this feels too dangerous, or any of us wants to stop — we stop. No questions, no arguments.”

“Agreed,” Elias said instantly, reaching across the table to take my hand in his, his grip warm and steady. “No secrets between us, even if we have to keep us a secret from everyone else. If either of us is scared, or hurt, or unsure — we say it. We don’t hold it in until it breaks us.”

“Agreed,” Silas echoed, covering our joined hands with his own, his smile finally reaching his eyes, bright and hopeful. “We’re a team. On the ice, and off. No one gets left behind, no one gets pushed aside. We do this together, or not at all.”

That night, we made our promise — quiet, unshakable, and ours alone. We stayed up late talking, learning the little things: Elias hated coffee but drank it anyway to wake up for early practices; Silas had a scar on his knee from a childhood skating accident he’d never told anyone about; I’d moved to the city alone after college, with nothing but a suitcase and a hope for something better. For the first time in months, none of us felt alone.